


Not Yet Death, Just a Different Path

by Pokypup49



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Happy Ending, Maes comes to help, Nightmares, Sad Start, Self-Loathing, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, help Roy, no really sorry, not sorry, possible triggers, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-10-12 17:47:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17472119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pokypup49/pseuds/Pokypup49
Summary: Roy hits rock bottom after he continues to have nightmares about Ishval. He plans on committing suicide, going out drinking one last time. Riza catches onto him, seeking help, and her and Hughes plan on getting him better and back on track.Suicide thoughts here! It's very sad, and possible triggers. Read with caution, but please enjoy the love of Riza and Roy.I will upload regularly.





	1. The End

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any Fullmetal Alchemist Characters. I just come up with sad plots to put them into.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy says his goodbyes.

The room was so quiet that he could hear the pens scribbling on the paper on the desks ahead of him. The bright sun warmed the room with its afternoon rays, yet he couldn’t feel the warmth. He scratched his face as he yawned and looked at his wristwatch. The day was far from over, and there was no headway on the work that he had neglected to do. Instead, his thoughts were elsewhere. His chest tight and heavy, his hands were still, and his eyes bore emptiness of his sole. All the sleep that he had was plagued with the lives he stole. He could only see blood-soaked sand, smell the burning fats, hear the screams, feel the heat as it left his fingers, and taste the dry death that wafted in the hot wind. The night before, he opted to not sleep, to avoid his curse. He sat alone in the dark, knowing that no one understood it. No one was fighting to the top to change the way the country was. No one wished to eliminate the prospect of war all the time. Instead, he was thwarted, challenged, and looked down on. His confidence was stolen, and he felt as if he was never going to move past his position. It was never going to be.

                He lifted his head and watched Lieutenant Breda tapping his pen on his chin in thought, before scribbling something down. He folded the paper up, slipping it easily into an envelope, and tossed it to the side. Mindless work. Roy’s eyes looked across to see Sargent Fuery jotting notes from a book. He was a good kid and Roy thought he’d go far. He was smart enough to understand things that even he took for granted. His face fell into his hands. His fingers rubbing his forehead as if it was trying to smooth the wrinkles that had formed from the stress.

                “Sir?”

                He turned and looked back at his adjutant. She was trying to hand him a cup of coffee, but he could see the concern in her eyes. She could see right through him. The reason why they were so close was more due to the experience of Ishval than of his internship. The horrors burned their very souls. Yet, he still felt distant from even her. He wanted to touch her, smile with her, remembering a better time between them when life was simple. He wanted to see her smile once more.

                “Thank you,” he muttered.

                “Are you sleeping okay?” Her words were softly spoken, quiet, as to not raise certain suspicion with the group.

                He nodded sipping his coffee. If he deviated from his path, it was her that was supposed to correct him, rid the world of another faulty existence. Now, he debated doing it himself. Not even becoming the Fuhrer mattered anymore. Nothing mattered. The papers in front of him didn’t matter, and certainly, tomorrow didn’t matter. No man liked him deserved to rule a country. It wasn’t people like him who made changes. He was a man of destruction. And maybe at one time, he was a gentle loving person, passionate about change. But not anymore.

                He looked down at his coffee, watching the steam rise, wispy and elegant in its dance, disappearing into the ether. It fascinated him. Maybe it was the extreme lack of sleep, maybe it was the careless floating, but either way, he couldn’t stop looking at it.

                Roy’s usual confidence eluded him. He felt more as a failure as of late. Maybe it was the dark dreams that he couldn’t fight off, but if he were to disappear tomorrow, no one would remember him as a skilled alchemist who wanted to make liberating changes in the government. They’d know him as a hero of Ishval, the Flame Alchemist… A killer. He’d be remembered as the man who killed hundreds, burning them alive, with just a snap. He narrowed his eyes at the dark remembrance that his past held. It was nothing to be proud of, and yet he was glorified for it. Killers like him should have been executed. He was a failure of society, the society that he swore to protect. And it brought the greatest of dishonor upon his gloomy persona.

                The harder part was playing it off to everyone around him that he was okay. _I don’t need them worrying over me_ , he tried to convince himself. _They don’t need to know that I suffer. I’m supposed to be invincible to them._ In reality, he felt so alone. Moreover, he felt that if he did say anything, he’d be sent to a ward where he’d lose a possible promotion on his lack of mental stability. His team would be removed or stationed elsewhere, and he didn’t even think he’d get them back if he ever returned. Instead of that, wouldn’t it be better to just end it all, save them the heartache of watching him be stripped of his honor and sent away?

                Roy looked back down at his coffee, taking another small sip. It was the typical coffee of the military. Cheap and weak. His lieutenant even made it better than the break rooms! But it still lacked the usual enthusiasm that he needed. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like it was something that could change his mood anyway. He began to wonder how long he had left he had? How long was he going to give himself? He debated this morning… He bit his lip as he thought about it. He’d just go home, get it over with. Was there really anything he needed to get done beforehand?

                Lieutenant Hawkeye walked in front of his desk, looking through some papers before handing them to Breda. He watched her feeling guilt for the first time about his actions and his thoughts. _If anyone would understand,_ he tried to argue with himself. _No,_ he quickly dismissed. He wasn’t going to second guess himself. But if anyone deserved to know, it was her. She was the only true love of his life. Truly. He’d “loved” women before, but she had his heart. _She understood before_ , he sighed heavily. _Why wouldn’t she understand now? Because, you’re so far lost, that you can’t be saved. You’d scare her away._

                He just wanted to cry. He wanted to crawl under his desk and cry. But again, that wasn’t an option. Instead, he yawned and let his eyes drift shut. He was done struggling. He napped all the time. If he only slept a little, he couldn’t dream, right? It didn’t matter. What was one more nightmare? He’d finish his business tonight and end the world of his evil.

                Lieutenant Hawkeye watched as his head dropped, his chin to his chest. His chest rose and fell gently, and his arms relaxed. She reached across the desk, moving the coffee from his hands.

                “I wonder what’s going on,” Havoc said gently from his desk. “Anyone else see how tired he is?”

                Breda nodded. “He’s not been sleeping.” He looked over at the only female in the room. They all knew she was closest to him. “Has he said anything to you?”

                She shook her head, frowning in concern as she opened a drawer and pulled out a blanket. They often kept blankets and pillows in there in case an all-nighter was called for. It had happened a few times and although the rest of the team usually stayed in the barracks, she and the Colonel would stay and work through the last forms into the early morning. They weren’t soft. The ordinary military issued wool blankets, grey in color, and itchy in feel. But it was enough. She placed it over his shoulders, trying her best not to wake him.

                As if it was an unspoken command, Fuery stood, opening the door and placing a “Do Not Disturb” Sign on the door, and locked it from the inside. Hawkeye had made it once when there were more interruptions than necessary, most of them coming from Hughes, who ignored the sign anyway.

                Then the office went back to work. Havoc left to do an inspection of the barracks which took a few hours, and Fuery left a few minutes after that to inspect a radio line that was exposed from water erosion. Falman was absent the rest of the week, taking what time he had requested off to visit his parents. Breda sat back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head. He watched the two other beings in the room. One he worried about, the other he cared for. He was always helping Hawkeye out, making sure she was okay on her own work when she was catching Mustang up on his. And his fearless leader looked overrun, with no apparent attackers. There was a clear upset in the universe. Now, he felt just as helpless. He wanted to fix it, to make both of them happy again. He wanted to see Colonel rise to the top, prove all the arrogant bastards who doubted him wrong. Breda wasn’t a person who sided with losers, but more like underdogs. He knew Colonel, he knew Mustang and his antics.

                “Hey,” Havoc said joyfully as he opened the door.

                Roy lifted his head, shaking it, almost as if he had been caught by General Grumman. As soon as he saw Havoc though, he relaxed and rubbed his face. “How long was I out?”

                “Three hours, Sir.” Hawkeye looked at the clock on the wall. “Was it a good sleep?”

                He snorted a response that was inaudible and reached for his coffee which now was cold.

                “I was talking to a couple of the officers down the hall.” Havoc continued as he leaned against the wall, lighting a cigarette. “They are going down to Lucky Dog Bar tonight. They invited us along.”

                “Hey,” Breda grinned jumping from his seat. “That sounds great! I could use a little leisure.”

                They both looked at Hawkeye. She never agreed to go. There was a handful of times that she went without being forced. “What do you say,” Havoc asked anyway.

                She shrugged. “I suppose so. I have to take Hayate home, and I’ll head down thereafter.”

                “Yes!” Breda cheered. “Colonel?”

                Mustang sighed heavily. “I’m not in the most joyous of moods,” he admitted. “I won’t be any fun.”

                “Come-on,” Breda insisted. “It might be good to get out and be social.”

                Mustang huffed, crossing his arms in front of him. His thoughts were darker than he could express. He wanted to go home, drink until he passed out. He wanted to put a pistol to his head, ending the suffering that was killing his soul. He didn’t want to go out and pretend to be happy anymore. He just wanted to sleep, a dreamless sleep.

                “The group will be empty without you,” Hawkeye encouraged. She smiled gently at him, another rare sight with her. If there was anyone with a depressing history, it was her. He envied her smile, envied her happiness, even if it was a front.

                “Fine,” he relented. “But I’m tired. I’m not staying for too long.”

                Roy had waited till everyone left the office. He had finished the “work” that he had and said that he’d finish a few things and see them in a few hours at the bar. Instead, he pulled out a few papers and jotted down his recommendations. He’d at least give good words to the upper staff about his men. Once they were done, he put it on his desk in a sealed envelope with the room number on it to administration. The next part was the hardest part. He closed his eyes tightly, gripping the pen. If it was this hard to say goodbye, shouldn’t he not do it?

                                _Dear my dearest Riza_ ,

                                _I’m so sorry. I can’t go on. I can’t let the world bear my sins. If there was anything in this world that could save me, I believe it would be you. But I fear your resentment of me. Know that my final resting place will be lonesome without your touch. Our last kiss was the happiest I had been in months. The recent days I yearned for your wanting gaze. I hope that you never doubted my love for you. I can’t find a fair way to love you and hate myself this much. For that, I’m sorry. Riza, please go on to fulfill our dream. If anyone could do it, I believe that it’d be you. Without you, I would have never gotten as close as I did. My heart will forever be yours, even if my mind was lost._

_Please do not mourn me. Know that I’m no longer in pain. I’m no longer a failure. Be there for my Aunt and sisters._

                                _Roy_

 

                Roy ran his hand through his hair, looking at his sad handwriting. Then her folding up carefully, put it in an envelope, and sealed it. He put it nicely on his desk and tapped on it a few times. He could just blow his head off in his office. Leave all that was there as it was. Just hurry and do it. He let a lone tear fall down his cheek, picking up the pen again and pulled another paper from the pile.

                                _Hughes,_

_Brother. I never wanted it to go this far. I wanted it to go farther. I’m sure that Fullmetal will not miss me. But I know you will. In any case, please look after him and Alphonse. I have failed. I won’t go anywhere. I am helpless to fight this battle any longer. I wish you were here, we’d go out for one last drink, laugh about the academy days, and joke about our loves. I’d hug you, tell you that the world was to be beaten. I have thought about visiting, thinking it might help me. Just to see you, talk to you again. But, it’s too late. Please do not fret, I’m not in pain anymore. I’m okay. Don’t let my memory be one of despair, but one of those joyous days of our youth._

                                _Roy Mustang_

 

                He put the pen down, wiping the tear from his face again, coughing as he fought his composure. He again, with such care, folded the paper and slipped it into an envelope, putting “Maes Hughes” on it. With his last wishes expressed, he stood up and wiped his shirt off, rubbing his face in hopes that it’d removed the evidence of his sadness. He donned his coat, and walked from the office, turning off the light as he left.

                The cool breeze of the sunset seemed to feel colder. He walked slowly though, looking down, accepting the shame of his committed actions. He just had to get drunk at the bar, laugh and play happy one last time, and then he would be able to go home and close his eyes one last time. He could at least do this, it was practiced so many times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty depressing, I know. But it's going to get better, I promise. Let me know what you think! And thank you for being a reader.


	2. The phone call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riza figures out what Roy is feeling and reaches out for some help.

                Riza Hawkeye waved to Heymans as she walked into the crowded bar. It was tiny, smokey, a band playing in the corner, and full of young soldiers. There were a few women, but she was pretty much on her own when defending herself from the prying eyes undressing her. Generally, a pistol shoved into their crotch did the trick. The joy of drinking with the group was that she could always count them. That was a blessing. As she sifted through the people, she had to smirk at the last time they were in a bar fight. She had ended it with a shot of her pistol. She took the drink Heymans gave her and asked how everyone was. It was a normal greeting. They’d seen each other only an hour before. But she still wanted to be cordial. At these gatherings, she rarely engaged anyone. She instead stood to the side and made small talk. “Where’s Colonel?”

                Jean nodded his head at the bar.

                “Has he even come over to say hi?”

                “He did for a minute,” Jean answered. “He’s been acting weird. He was super quiet and then he just got up and went to the bar.” Jean turned to throw a dart at the black and white target. “He’s only been there for about 20 minutes. We thought he was flirting with the bartender, but she walked away and hasn’t returned.”

                Riza frowned. She put her drink on the table and headed over to him. It was about time she investigated into her leader’s odd behavior. Her stomach turned as she knew something was wrong. Her skin felt hot as her instinct flared. Riza didn’t want to make him feel like she was harping on him as she normally did, but he was hiding something. _I just wish he’d ask for help,_ she thought _with a heavy sigh. He’s just too proud for his own good. His damn ego gets in the way_.

Riza walked quietly behind him. It was easy enough with the loud music nearby. The drums, with a banjo, and guitar blaring loudly, and military songs ringing out with the crowd following. She could hear Haymans hollering from the back. It was a favorite tune of his. But not even Roy was raising his glass. He was hunched over, head low, looking at the brown liquor in his cup. He swirled it and set it down. She could see him sigh by the sinking of his back, sinking into himself. _How much has he had to drink already? What is eating at him?_ “Hey,” she greeted, putting her hand on his back. It was rare if they touched. They avoided contact the most to avoid any fraternization rumors. The whole base knew they were close, they didn’t need investigations ruining their relationship. Yet, she disregarded their normal procedures and leaned close to him to hear him with the blaring lyrics. It was the closest she’d been to him in a long time, and her heart instantly pinged with pain as she saw him look back at her.

                 “Hey there.” His black eyes showed the deepest sadness, a pit of darkness that his spirit was lost in. She could smell the alcohol in his breath already, but he wasn’t swaying. He didn’t even smile at her as he usually did when they were out or alone. He frowned, looking like it was excruciating to see her concerned gaze.

                “Are you okay?”

                Roy didn’t answer right away. He got like this sometimes. He’d get depressed, gloomy, and unbearable in his self-loathing. She was aware of this. He cycled almost regularly. But he never stayed that way for long. He usually jumped back into his over-confident self, grinning at his schemes and causing mischief where he could. She’d only seen him this foreboding once before and it took Hughes to awaken him again. Hughes was in Central. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Just having a hard time. I’ll be okay.”

                Riza felt a surge of anger. This wasn’t a hard time, this was despair. “Don’t lie to me,” she said as she leaned close to him. The words were meant for him and him only, her hot breath on his ear. He almost felt her lips brush against his earlobe. But the words themselves stung him painfully. Of course, she’d know. Only she would know.

                “Don’t patronize me.” He snapped, glaring at her.

                “Then, come join us.” They weren’t kind as it should have been. It sounded more like an order, which is probably why his glare back at her was also not as kind. She was firm, unbroken, and unmoving.

                But Roy didn’t move either. He blinked a few times, seeming to be trying to read her, looking for a weakness. Riza held just as steady. She wasn’t going to let him talk to her like that. And she didn’t need his bullshit.

                “I’m not your enemy,” she reminded. “I’m your friend. I just want to know what’s wrong.” Her hand grabbed his forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You know I care about you, right?”

                Roy pulled his arm from her and lowered his head again, leaving his words inside him. He had already written down what he wanted her to know. It was on his desk for her to find in the morning. It wasn’t something he could say now. But Riza didn’t know this. She didn’t know anything that he was thinking, only that her best friend and leader was not himself in the least bit.

                Jean and Heymans watched from afar. “What do you think she’s saying to him?”

                Jean shrugged. “To get off his pity pot.”

                “You can lie to everyone in this bar,” she warned. “But don’t you dare lie to _me_ , and don’t you dare lie to _yourself_.”

                “I’m just not feeling well.” He waved her warning away. He stood up, grabbing his whiskey. He normally would have turned towards her, sliding a crooked and mischievous smirk at her, but there was none. He turned away from her, not even looking over his shoulder.

                “Did I do something,” she asked, letting her arms fall to her side.

                Roy shook his head. “You haven’t done anything wrong. It’s me.”

                She grabbed his arm as he stepped away from her. “If this was your last day here, is this what you want to do?” She watched carefully at his reaction. If it was as far as she feared, she needed to form a plan, let him know that she loved him. And truly, she could not go on without him. She had no desire whatsoever to continue in this world without him. In her earliest days, meeting his scrawny figure who obsessed over her father’s work, she never wanted to be far from him. His gentle touch and care for his work mesmerized her. He was the complete opposite of the only other man she knew, and she committed herself to him after he left for war. She could not lose him.

                Roy froze. His whole body tensed. _This is my last day. I’ve made up my mind_. He pulled his sleeve from her and walked towards his group just as Kain arrived, punching Hayman’s in the shoulder. _I can’t do another day like this. None of you deserve this wicked treatment that I have enforced. And they will go beyond my capabilities without me holding them back._

Riza saw it. Her heart stopped. _No_ , she thought. _Fuck_. _Hughes, where are you when I need you? How am I supposed to save him without you?_ She turned on her heel and pushed her way to the bathroom where she picked up the payphone. She dug into her pocket, pulling out some change and shoving it into the slot with shaking hands. Then she dug into another pocket, pulling out a small book. Her fingers trembled with fear as she flipped through the pages with haste. “Where… There!” Her fingers almost fumbled as she dialed. The ringing on the other side made her whole body tense. “Answer damn it. Fucking answer…” Her stomach turned, and although she’d only had a few sips, she wanted to puke. Moreover, she wanted to go punch Roy in the face.

                “This is Maes Hughes.”

                “Hughes…” Riza held back the tears that threatened her. Her own steady self was in ruins. Never had anyone ever seen her in such desperation. “It’s Hawkeye.”

                There was silence on the other end.

                “I’m sorry it’s late,” she coughed, trying to compose herself. Hughes didn’t need to hear her shaking voice, or the crackle of the tears that threatened to show in her tone. She had to be strong, and steady like Roy needed her to be.

                “Are you okay?”

                Riza gripped the phone and bit her lip hard enough that she could taste blood.

                “What’s going on?”

                “Hughes,” she whispered. “You need to get here.”

                “What’s going on,” he asked again with more urgency.

                “It’s Roy. I can’t do this by myself.”

####

                “Colonel!”

                “Breda here thinks that he can play darts blindfolded better than me without.”

                Roy reached back into his pocket, pulling out his wallet, placing 100 cenz on the table. “I want to see this.”

                His team followed suit, laying down money to bet. He put on a smile, changing his expression from doomed to pleasant. If Riza was right, everyone knew he was in a bad mood. And he didn’t need them thinking he was depressive. But he felt no joy. He didn’t deserve joy and happiness. He sat and watched as Heymans was blindfolded and set up so the dart board was in front of him. He almost felt invisible to some extent. But in reality, he wouldn’t really know what to do with the attention. It almost pained him that none of them had been so attentive as Riza, yet, for her to know was slightly expected. Still, she didn’t ask about it till now and now was too late for him to turn around.

                “Where’s Hawkeye anyway?” Jean looked around the bar.

                “She went to the bathroom,” Fuery chimed.

                Jean shrugged and looked back at Breda to threw a dart landing just outside the red circle in the middle. “Almost man, a little to the left.”

                “Hey! You can’t help him!”

                “Afraid of losing?”

                Roy looked at his drink then back at the waiter that was making rounds. He slammed back the rest of his dark alcohol and waved at her to come their way.

####

                “I can be on the first train there, but I won’t be there till mid-morning.”

                Riza didn’t respond.

                “Can you keep him occupied till then?”

                “What do I do?”

                “Don’t leave his side. Just keep him in your sight. Once I get there, I will talk to him.”

                Riza nodded though she knew Hughes couldn’t see her. “I think I can do that.”

                “Do you think he’s that bad?”

                She could hear the deep concern for his friend. “I wish I knew what started it.”

                He hummed. “I’m going to talk to Gracia and pack a bag. I can have a good excuse to go there and send it to headquarters before I get on the train.”

                “Yes, Sir.”

                “I will go straight to the office. You said he works at 0800 hours?”

                “Yes, Sir.”

                “See you then.”

                “Thank you, Hughes.”

                “Anything for you, Hawkeye.”

                Riza hung up on the phone and looked over her shoulder. She wasn’t going to leave his side. He wasn’t going to be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another emotional chapter. I did intend for the names to change. I know it can be confusing, but I wanted to play with the context of their informalities of who they were on and off shift. We are going to see this throughout the story. I apologize for the confusion or inconsistency. I know that Riza Hawkeye probably wouldn't be shaken up like that, and probably played it a lot smoother. But, I think she may have been quite a bit of emotion to see him so off and at a dangerous level mentally. I'm not sure. I chose for her to be shaken up about it. After knowing someone for that length of time, friend or intimate, it can be a rush of emotions trying to help them.   
> Let me know what you think. And of course, thank you so much for reading!


	3. Drunken Stuper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riza takes Roy home, dealing with his emotions and hers. Roy comes apart emotionally.

                Roy slurred some words to Jean as he pointed to a girl. They were sure they were talking about Jean flirting and the statistical chances that Jean would get her. Riza and Breda watched humorously. “I think it’s time he goes home,” She sighed.

                “He’s pretty drunk. He works in the morning…” Breda eyed Riza. “You going to take him home?”

                Riza nodded. She traditionally did. “Yeah. I can get him there.”

                “Then I’ll grab Jean-Boy.”

                The two stood up, leaving Fuery asleep on the table, and grabbed their designated drunks. With an arm around each shoulder, they waved and walked out of the bar in different directions. It was a chilly night, but nothing that they weren’t used to. At first, he pushed against her a little, but after falling into the brick building to his left, he decided to accept her help along the sidewalk. He didn’t say anything, mostly mumbled. Riza was honestly surprised about how heavy he was this time. He really went all out, even though he was working the next day. However, if he was that depressed, and readying to kill himself as she suspected, it'd make sense that he wasn't preparing for tomorrow. He had no reasons to worry about tomorrow. 

                “Sir,” she asked as they approached his apartment. “You are very drunk.”

                “Yes… I suppose I am,” he chuckled.

                “Tomorrow is going to be hard. You better not call in sick.” She still wanted to allude to the idea of him being around tomorrow.

                He chuckled some more. “I’m sure it will be fine.” That was not a firm answer as she'd like to hear. 

                He fumbled with his keys so Riza took them gently from him. Her hands grazing his as she picked out the familiar key and unlocked the door. “Come on, Colonel.”

                Roy almost looked surprised as she helped him inside. He expected her to leave him at the door to fend for himself. Instead, her fingers tightened on his ribs as she helped him inside. She led him to his bed and sat him down. He slouched down, looking up at her. “You can go home,” he muttered. “I can take it from here.”

                She shook her head, smiling. “I’m not leaving.” She kneeled down so they could look at each other on the same level. “Don’t I have a job at protecting you?"

                He looked down at his hands in his lap. “Then I guess you’re relieved.” The words were quiet, subtle, but she heard them.

                Riza took no heed to them, only running her hand through his oily hair, pulling them up and away from his eyes. “You need a haircut,” she observed. “You should get that done tomorrow.”

                He didn’t move.

                “Roy,” she whispered. Her hands reached out, putting them on top of his. “I don’t know what started this,” she whispered. “But I know. And I’m not leaving till you are okay.”

                He looked up to her, tears already starting to seep from his eyes.

                “Do you want to talk about it?”

                He shook his head ever so slightly that anyone could have missed it if they weren’t as close as she was. His hair swayed and settled on his forehead.

                “Come on, then.” Riza reached for a bucket, placing it by the end of the bed. Then she went to work on unbuttoning his uniform.

                Roy could feel everything. It was almost like the first time. He could feel as she diligently and carefully slipped each button through its designated hole, then moving onto the next with such grace. But his intoxication made it so that he couldn’t move the way he wanted. He just let himself sob instead. After a few buttons, her thumb reached up and wiped his cheek of the sorrow. Roy leaned into her. She was not as drunk like he was, by far soberer. But somehow, he could still smell the perfume that she put on her wrists so that he could smell her when she handed him papers. His heart fluttered in his chest. It had been too long since they had been intimate, and he missed her. In slow motion, her fingers left his face and returned to unbutton a few more. He leaned into her as she rolled the jacket over his shoulders, letting his head fall onto her shoulder.

                Riza pulled his arms from the jacket, feeling his weight descend upon her shoulder. She didn’t second guess herself as she wrapped her arms around him, embracing him. Her finger tips ran up and down his back and she hushed him, feeling his back rise and hearing him sob. She hadn’t seen him ever this bad and wondered if Hughes had ever. She couldn’t ask him. She just rubbed his back and held him as close to her as she could. Inside she felt herself falling apart, but outside she knew she needed to be strong for him. She had to be his lieutenant. She had to be his rock. She, after all, did make a promise to keep him on his path, not to let him stray, and to never leave his side, even into Hell.

                After a few minutes, she pushed him up, wiping his tears with her thumb again and started to resume her task of getting his white dress shirt off. But Roy stopped her, grabbing her hand. She looked up, seeing his red and swollen eyes. “Sir?”

                He shook his head. “Not tonight.” He leaned in, grabbing her face with his other hand, guiding himself into her. His lips crashed with hers, and she could feel his desperate need for her. He tasted strongly of the whiskey he had indulged on, almost too much for her to handle. She didn’t really shy away from it like she usually would, being this drunk. She missed him also, and in his state of crisis, she couldn't pull away. In her chest, she worried that she'd never see him again. Riza didn't didn’t encourage the kiss but didn't shy away. She allowed him to have her, to let him know she wasn't going to abandon him, even in a kiss. After he pulled away leaving his forehead on hers. “I missed you.”

                Riza pulled from him, holding his face with her hand. “Colonel,” she whispered. “I missed you too. But you are very drunk.”

                “You’re going to deny me now? Now?” Riza didn't respond as she went back to unbuttoning his shirt, but now there was a sense of urgency. She wasn’t so slow and tender. He grabbed her hand tighter and put her hand over his heart. “If this was my last night on Earth, is this how you’d want to spend it?”

                Riza stopped and looked up at him. “ _Roy_ ,” she whispered with a sad sigh. The lieutenant part of her was stripped away from her and his friend, his love, was all he had left. “It’s not going to be your last day. I’m not going to let it be.”

                Another rack of sobs pushed up into his throat and he shook his head. “I’m at the end,” he cried. “This is it.”

                Riza let him cry as she continued to roll his dress shirt over his shoulders and watched his bare chest shake with each sob. He was reduced to a sad boy, crying. It broke her a little inside. He had always held this stoic persona, one of determination and pride. And although she did know that he was acting much of his role in the military to fool the people around him into thinking he wasn't what he was, she began to wonder if he was also acting to hide is ultimate depression. “Come on,” She whispered, pulling him upward. “Let’s get your pants off.” She wanted to tell him how amazing he was, that she had sided with him solely on the words that he told her at her father's grave. That she wouldn't just let anyone know the formula to flame alchemy... or burn her to remove it from the world. He wasn't' stupid, but brilliant, and talented. He was moving up through the ranks because he was so amazing. Riza couldn't fathom why he was so low now. 

                He reached down as he stood, unbalanced from the alcohol, and unbuttoned his pants. “Please,” he began to beg. “Please don’t leave me.” His hands shook as they pulled at his button. "Please..." 

                “I’m not going to leave,” she assured, helping his pants over his hips.

                Riza had seen him naked several times. Some were in the stages of professionality, and others intimately, and seeing him in his boxers. It didn't' even seem to faze her. And it wasn't that she didn't want him sexually, it was that she needed to be there for him emotionally. Riza hoped that he'd understand that. She untied his shoes, slipping each one off at a time. Once his pants were removed, she looked back up at him. “Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

                He focused for a second before nodding. Riza helped him stand, guiding him to the bathroom before letting him go in on his own to pee. She’d seen him drunk enough times. More time than she’d care to count. He was usually jolly when drunk, a good sport, even a bit reckless. It was the one time that everyone got to see him be a little less stern and stoic. He suddenly was able to act his age, younger than the surrounding officers, and be merry. It worried her beyond doubt that whatever he was dealing with was deep and dark. She’d never see him bawl like a baby, so heavy that he had no composure.

                When he came out, he fumbled back to the bed where she kneeled to be at his eye level again. “Feel better?”

                He nodded.

                “You going to be okay?”

                Another sloppy nod.

                “Don’t go anywhere,” she said firmly. She stood up, leaning over him. “Stay here,” she whispered, letting her lips brush against his. “Okay?’

                He let his face stay tilted up as she stepped away, still expecting another kiss from her. He let his face fall into his hands as she left the room, rubbing his whole face, trying to recover from his crying. It was pathetic, and he was almost embarrassed that Riza Hawkeye was seeing her fearless leader in this condition. He wasn't fearless. He was fearless to outside threats, to enemies against his troops and officers. He wasn't fearless to himself. He scared himself beyond reasonable levels. Riza returned with a glass of water and handed it to him. “Drink up.” He accepted it and took a few gulps before turning and hurling into the trash can immediately. She took the glass from him as he rolled off the bed, holding the trash can as if it was the only thing in the world that was keeping him alive, throwing up again. “You’re okay,” she whispered, rubbing his back. “You’re okay.”

                Riza pulled him back into a sitting position and handed him the water again. “Come on, Roy.” He took a few more drinks, made a motion to the trash, then stopping and taking another drink.

                “That stinks,” he muttered, squinting his nose.

                She laughed gently. “That’s what alcohol poisoning smells like.”

                “Fucking awful,” he grumped.

                “Ready?”

                He nodded slowly, feeling her hands reach under his armpits and hoisting him back onto the bed. He sat there again and watched as she started to undress herself. It was mesmerizing to him, or maybe he was that drunk, but her ivory skin was tantalizing. Her golden hair flowed down her back. He gulped again, holding down the next level of puke rising. But his body was failing him. As aroused as he felt, he couldn’t obtain an erection. It disappointed him, but he was concerned of even participating in sex if he could barely sit straight. His eyes draped down her legs, watching her pants fall. She removed her gun, and emptied it, putting it on the dresser away from them. It was odd since she generally did not let it out of sight, let alone arm’s reach.

                She climbed on the bed and pulled him down next to him. He laid back onto his chest, feeling her calloused hand massage his chest. “Feel better?”

                He nodded dumbly, still fighting off sleep.

                “Can we talk in the morning?”

                His nodding slowed as she felt his chest fall into a slow rhythm of rising and falling.

                She leaned forward, kissing his cheek. Her hand wasn’t going to leave him all night. When he woke, she’d wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter. Sorry. There will be a good one next post. It's a slow burn I feel... Tell me what you think! And thank you to all the readers, I really appreciate all of you!


	4. Waking up alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy and Riza wake up the next day. Roy's pretty hungover. She's able to get him to talk a little, and they enjoy some personal time.

               The day didn’t wake as it normally woke. It wasn’t early, it wasn’t sober, and it wasn’t clean. Roy had been up and down, all night puking. As soon as the sun dawned in his window, he fought it to go back to sleep. His head felt like it was split open. He rolled out of the bed, stumbling to his bathroom to relieve himself. Bracing against the wall as he held a heavy stream into the porcelain bowl, he thought back to the night before. Nothing had changed except that he had embarrassed himself in front of the only person that mattered. He wondered what she was going to do, say, feel… His chest sunk as he thought about her leaving his department, his side, all because he wasn’t well.

                He held the doorway as he moved back into the bedroom. Riza was still in his bed, her arm behind her head as she used it as a pillow, and the other over his side of the bed. She blinked at him, smiling softly. Her t-shirt hugged her form tightly but had slipped up showing a bit of her side and exposed hip. Her boy shorts hugged her thighs. Suddenly, he couldn’t stop his suffering today, maybe not tomorrow. As long as she was laying there, he’d continue another day. But he knew that wasn’t possible. There was a real reason why he and she hadn’t been together the way they enjoyed.

                “Feel better,” She asked with a yawn.

                He shrugged.

                She sat up and waved him over to the bed, helping him climb on and beside her.

                “I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus,” he groaned. He sat against the wall, moving the pillows aside so that he could look down at her. 

                “I bet,” she chuckled. Riza sat up, looking at him as if she expected him to talk to her. But he didn't want to talk. His head hurt, and his body hurt. He didn't want to do anything but rest. They sat for a second. He looked down at their hands, reaching out to hers. He grabbed it, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the wall. Even five more minutes of sleep would be greatly appreciated.

                “Are you going to even make an attempt to go in?” Riza knew Hughes was going to be there. She knew that he’d take him aside, say something as a brother would, and Roy would feel better. She wished she knew the secret to him. That was Hughes though. Their relationship was as complication as hers and Roy’s, just in their own way.

                He sighed deeply. “Honestly, not really.”

                “Why not? You’ve worked with a hangover before.”

                He scowled and turned his face away from her.

                “Roy, I can’t help you unless you tell me.” Riza reached up to pull his face towards her. She climbed into his lap so that both her hands could trap his face so that he’d have to look at him. Her eyes glowed with concern as she looked at him. Roy’s hands fell onto her hips, patting them with frustration and anxiety. “Just talk to me,” She whispered.

                Roy frowned. He bit his lip, hard, feeling the pain. He opened his mouth to say something but then stopped.

                Riza leaned forward, nuzzling him, smelling the alcohol on him. Her hands slide down to his shoulders, wrapping around his neck. She pulled herself closer to him, placing her hand between them, against his chest over his heart. Her lips brushing his ear. “I can feel your heart beating.” She whispered. “Do you know that mine beats with yours?”

                His head didn’t move but she felt him tense up.

                “Do you know that I’m your guardian, your protector because I’m the only one that will protect you and keep you straight?”

                He let his hands wrap around her.

                “And I said yes because you mean that to me. What am I supposed to do without you? My job would have failed.” She whispered the painful words into his ear, resisting the tear now getting ready to slide down her own cheek.

                Roy felt the tear though as it seemed between their touching cheeks. She breathed hot air into his ear. “I will follow you, where ever you lead me.”

                “You can’t come with me,” he choked out.

                Riza sat up, pulling from him so she could see him. “Then don’t go.”

                Roy pulled on her back, pulling her so she was tight against him. “Even now?”

                “Even now.” She receeded from him with a soft smile, looking into his dark eyes with her light brown ones. The light brown eyes that he loved waking up to. No one that he'd ever slept with had the same effect on him when he woke up the next day. 

                He plunged into her. His lips crashing upon her as if they were violent waves on a rocky cliff. Their breaths were caught in the moment, ceased in their lungs. His hands slid from her hips, grabbing her shirt as they slipped from her skin. Her hands went up, into his hair at the base of his neck, pulling the strands through her fingers. It earned an immediate response as he groaned deeply. They parted for a mere moment to gasp as they crashed again. She moaned quietly, tilting into him. She could feel him starting to get aroused and she wondered if it was even appropriate to have sex now. Would it do any good? Or would it make it worse?

                While Roy was needing anything, any sign that he was not a complete fuck up. He needed to feel her, smell her, taste her. He lifted himself against her, groaning again. It was passionate, a hot frenzy of emotions that was driving them together. They both held a pending fear that if they separated, they’d never hold each other again. Their lungs burned for oxygen as they parted again.

                Riza quickly put her hand on his chest. “Stop,” she said, breathing heavily. It pained her to cease their contact, but he still hadn’t spoken to her. “You can’t avoid talking to me.”

                He gulped, his bare chest rising sharply as he gulped down a breath. He breathed through his mouth, taking in a large, chest full of air. He avoided her eyes yet again, and Riza was starting to suspect that she just wasn’t meant to hear it. That he couldn’t bear to admit his sins, his dark secrets to her. She reached out, placing the tips of her fingers on his jaw, and guiding his face back to hers. She didn’t say anything, just stared into his eyes. “I’m sad,” he whispered. “Very sad.”

                “Why,” she asked. “You have just recruited the youngest State Alchemist in History, falling in favor of General Grumman, and have a brilliant team which propels your reputation. Why are you sad?”

                He shook his head. “I don’t know,” he breathed.

                Riza looked over at her service weapon on the dresser. “How were you going to kill yourself?”

                Roy pulled at her shirt, trying to enclose the air between them, but she wouldn’t have it.

                “Are you still going to do it?”

                “Please don’t…”

                “Roy,” she begged. “Why?”

                “Because I can’t deal with the darkness anymore!” He snapped, looking angerly at her. “These ghosts haunt me of my sins in Ishval! And I can’t rid myself of them! Why should I burden the world with … This!” He raised his hands in front of her. “I only cause death and destruction, and that’s all the military… that’s all I’m good for…” His voice dwindled down as he let his hands fall between them facing upward.

                Riza ran her fingers down his chest, letting them stop in his hands. “It’s not your sins that will change the world, it will be your accomplishments.” She leaned forward, as close to him as she could. She didn’t know what she could say to him, but she was thankful that he said something, anything.

                “I was going to come home and just shoot myself,” he whispered painfully.

                “Are you still going to?”

                He shrugged. “I don’t know…”

                “How about we take today by every hour. Just an hour at a time.” Riza guided his hands back onto her hips. “And if you feel sad, just tell me so. You can just ask for a cup of coffee, how’s that?”

                He nodded.

                “And tonight, we can come back here and see if you feel better.”

                He continued to nod. “If that’s what you want.”

                “ _You’re_ going to need to want it.”

                He squinted, looking over at her service pistol. They sat still, the room silent. “Okay, I want it. I want your help.”

                She smiled with her results. It was a start, and she’d take it. Riza patted his cheek with her hand and nodded her head towards the bathroom. “If you go brush your teeth, we might continue the activity that you have been wanting.” It was a genuine soft smile as she leaned her head against his. “You’re puke breath is killing me.”

                He chuckled, still holding back the surge of emotion that was swelling in his chest. But he obeyed. He stumbled back to the bathroom to brush his teeth before returning to her.

                Riza couldn’t deny that she wanted it too. She did. She knew he probably needed some kind of release, and she wanted to hold him, coddle him as she could. He normally didn’t allow that kind of behavior, so sex would be the way to get through to him that she loved him; that he mattered to someone. He had no idea that Hughes was at his office, getting ready to give him an intervention.

                Riza pulled him towards him as she moaned into him. She let his mouth open over her neck, groaning into it. She grinded against him, getting him worked up again. He thrust up against her as a response to her. He groaned madly against her. His hands wandered over her with excitement.

                “You’re wearing too much,” he growled.

                As in a silent command, she raised her arms to the ceiling and he pulled her shirt off from her. It was a practiced and quick movement. Her naked chest glowed in the morning light. His hands returned slowly, letting him see her for the moment that they were still. They slid smoothly up her sides, under her breasts, his thumbs extending to brush her nipples. He pulsed, thickening in his boxers as blood rushed to his groin. How else was he going to thank her, for not only staying with him and caring for him but for staying with him and saving his life? He grabbed her breasts roughly, watching her head fall back as she whined, holding back the noise that surged in her chest. It was his full intent to hear those screams that she kept locked up.

                In a sweep of motion, he rolled her over. Hips over hips, pinning her with his knees on either side, he looked down at her with a devious grin. “That’s the Colonel that I know,” she encouraged. He slipped his finger under her underwear, pulling at it with a teasing attitude. His other finger lazily slid down her sternum and her flat stomach. It slipped under her band next and they pulled it down. He lifted himself above her as he slipped them off her, down her legs slowly as if it was glass and if he went too fast, she’d break. He stayed low on her, breathing his hot breath over her pubic hair. It tingled her, aroused her and she reached down to touch herself, but Roy directed her hand away from herself. “Yes,” she whispered.

                Roy closed in, kissing her, breathing in her scent. He rubbed her nose against her and groaned again. “You have always smelled so good,” he snickered. His tongue licked her, slipping easily between her lips, lapping against her clitoris. He grinned. “You taste good too.”

                Riza reached back to grasp his hair in frustration but didn’t pull him up. “Just like that,” she encouraged. And Roy conceded to her wishes. He licked at her, sucking occasionally. His hand reached up to grasp her breast, moaning together as he squeezed it roughly. The vibrations of his moan drove her wild and she arched her back.

                He pulsed harder in his pants. It was amazing the effect she had on him. Something as simple as her arching her back, or a heavy sigh, and he could lose himself. He let go of her breast to grab himself, tightening his hold in hopes that he could calm himself. His tongue slipped easily down, with her soaked from his saliva. He could take her natural juices, slipping into her to encourage her arousal. He could feel her hips shake as she resisted bucking against him. He leaned up, wanting to gaze upon her pleasure. But her head was back, her mouth gaped open, as her breasts rose and fall rapidly as she gasped for breath. It was enough. He panted, letting two fingers slowly enter into her, relishing in her moisture. Roy's stomach tightened with his own anticipation, his own need. But he willed it away as much as he could. It wasn’t about him, it was about her. It was always about her. His fingers rubbed against her inner walls, feeling her twitch and tighten around his fingers. He began simple motions, in and out, while his head dipped back down to tease her sensitive nub.

                “You know me too well,” she chuckled. “It’s like you have done this a couple times,” She gasped and moaned as her hips instinctually lifted for a deeper penetration.

                “I’d like to think that we just understand each other,” he murmured before sucking on her clit sharply.

                Riza now pulled up on his hair. Her adrenaline and emotional stressors had already given her a heightened bodily awareness. It was not her intention for him to just get her off like this. She wanted to ensure he understood her own dedication to him. He lifted his head, about to say something, but she shook her head. “Come here,” she ordered.

                Roy crawled up to her, leaning his head close to hers. Riza wasn’t fond of alcohol breath and sex, but she adored his dark eyes and the softness that privy to all but her. He leaned down to kiss her softly, the very opposite of what was moments just before. His tongue now pressed to enter her mouth, so taste her front this end of her body. Riza opened her mouth, extending her own tongue to dance against his. As soon as he relented and pulled back, he felt her slide her leg around his, and just as sharply as he did, she flipped him over. It was now a test of dominance.

                Riza sat on him, hands intertwined in his black mess of hair. She now kissed him, harder and more pressure and she rubbed her wetness against his hard erection. But he was still bound by his last piece of clothing. She sat up, interrupting the enjoyment of their connection, and slinked down to his boxers. Her lips peck short and quick kisses, trailing down. She didn’t concern her trail with a straight line but rather zig-zagged all over with no concerned pattern. “You’re so warm,” she gently stated. “Just the way I like you.”

                It was a slight tinge to him, as he knew she was referencing to their earlier topic. She liked having him around. It wasn’t anything to concern with his raging hot cock. “And you are so attentive, just the way I like you,” he countered.

                She didn’t stop kissing as she stopped to give a longer kiss over his heart before continuing. Her fingers tickled his sides and his muscles flexed as he chuckled. As her lips kissed over his abs, and over his hips, her fingers grasped his boxers and pulled them down enough that his erection sprang forth from its imprisonment. Riza could do nothing but hum her approval, moving the side to pull his underwear off. Her hand reached over to grasp him, and she leaned down to lick up his sheath.

                “Whoa,” he gasped. “It’s been a while.”

                Riza stopped, looking up so he could see her disappointment. With a heavy sigh, she squeezed his balls, watching him groan and gasp, his body tightens, his teeth grind, and his eyes tightly shut. She let go, grinding her body against his as she slid up to his face again. As soon as her wet folds found his throbbing dick, she stopped to lean her head against his. “You know,” she whispered.

                Roy nodded, refusing to open his eyes as he concentrated everything on not exploding all over her. He mediated on anything that helped for his body to calm and collect itself for the next hurdle: going inside her.

                “It’s been a while for me too.”

                It didn’t help his meditation knowing that she was as riled up like him.

                “I’m loyal to you, Colonel.”

                _Oh God_ , he pleaded. _She’s just using my rank_.

                “No matter what happens,” she whispered against his lips. “No matter, I will never leave you.”

                He gulped. His hands reached up to hold her hips above his, tightening his grip and he waited for himself to be calm enough for him to enter.

                Riza felt him pulsing against her, just his tip between her fold, teasing himself at her entrance. “What are you waiting for?”

                Roy grunted. “I can’t…”

                “Why not?”

                “I can’t disappoint you…”

                The whole confession was done in gasps of breath, in exhales, lifting into the air to dissipate. It was another admit to his depression, in his head. Did he really think that he was a disappointment?

                “Roy,” she breathed across his chin. “You never disappoint.”

                He groaned and pressed her down onto him a little. “I’m so bad,” he whined.

                Riza broke from his grip, which was easier than he wanted. She lifted her pelvis and slid down, ever so slowly, onto him, letting him slip into her. She was warm, no hot, wet, and welcoming. It was everything he wanted. Roy wanted to bury himself into her, hide away from the world. She'd be his escape, his safe space. And yet, in the back of Roy's mind, it ticked away that it could never be. That every single time they connected like this, they were breaking the law and risking everything he had worked for. And it still didn't matter. He wanted it. He needed it. His fingers dug into her. His mouth gaping open as his lungs sicked heavy breaths through his mouth. 

                “Shit,” he gasped. “Don’t…” Roy's body shook violently while hers remained all too calm, even for her own desires and lust. Riza was astounded the amount of control he was enforcing. All she’d have to do is pivot her hips, allowing him just a tad deeper, tighten herself, and he’d shove himself as far as he could go, releasing himself into her with enough force and heat to start her own orgasm. She was about to sit up but he tapped on her arm. He was tapping out, giving up. But it was their code for a “secret word” and she pulled off him.

                It was amazing to her too. Feeling him pulse and twitch inside her was its own experience. She could feel herself tighten and with a little external stimulation she could come right then. But she had more control over the situation and that gave her some mental leeway. She let herself fall off of him and allowed him to breathe heavily, his hand hovering over his dick in case he lost it. It seemed like forever till he opened an eye and looked over at her. “I…” he groaned. “I have…”

                Roy sat up, pushing her down and mounted her. He spread her legs forcefully and shoved himself into her, moaning louder than he normally would. The sound set Riza into spasms and she drove her hips at a downward angle to accept him. It was all it took. He pressed deep within her, pulling back and pushing in at a sharp and quick thrust. But he didn’t go too fast, he worked on letting her feel him get as deep as he could. She convulsed around him, tightening, squeezing him, milking his penis for his seed. Her hands grabbed at his sides, scratching them deeply. It was self-harm that he desired more than his own death.

                As he finished, his arms wobbled feeling uneasy over her. Riza couldn't help but laugh, even though her breathing as if she had just run across the city at full speed. She pushed him over easily, letting him fall to the side as he chuckled with her. He fell out of her and he rolled onto his back looking at the ceiling. “I sure feel better,” he laughed.

                Riza sat up and looked at the clock. “You still have time to go in and not be too terribly late.” She still was thinking of Hughes waiting for him in the office. The rest of the group was there, except Havoc who she expected to call in with the amount of enduement he took in last night.

                “My head hurts,” he complained.

                “A hot shower will help,” she slapped the side of his thigh with the back of her hand and she rose from his bed. “Get up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, it can't be one of my stories without a bit of smut. :) I feel that this is growing more and more from canon. But it's still a good read, right? Don't worry, his nice cuddly time is coming to an end when Hughes gets ahold of him. As always, thank you for being a reader! And let me know what you think.


	5. Hughes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy meets Hughes in his office. And Hughes has a specific letter in hand.

                The shower was hot and reviving. It didn’t help his headache as much as he wanted, but she helped relieve the pain that dug deep within his soul. Her hands were healing which amused him greatly considering that she would argue that in an instant. They had taken lives, personally seeking death of her enemy. They didn’t heal, they destroyed. But to his skin, they were fingers of an angel brushing peace into his skin, cell by cell. The hot water poured over him in a sense of baptism while the kisses she placed on his chest where little lifts from his dark hell.

                And as if she hadn’t done enough, she made him coffee and dressed him. At first, he tried to shoo her away, saying he wasn’t a toddler, but Hughes’ words still rang in her ears as she knew he couldn’t be left alone quite yet. Just as her fingers had undid his buttons last night, she tenderly pushed them through their designated holes today. As the last one did up his collared shirt, she ran her hand down his chest to wipe it clean and straightened it out. “There,” she smiled. “You’re looking great.”

                He smirked, putting his hands on her shoulder. “Thank you,” he nodded.

                “You can do it. Just one hour at a time,” she reminded. She reached in his closet to pull out his uniform.

                He took a deep breath as he slipped his arms in, pulling it taunt over him before buttoning himself up. He looked up to see her handing him his gloves. “And…” he nodded to his own handgun.

                “I think I will be your gun today.”

                He was about to argue with her but dismissed it. “Then don’t go far.”

                “Never,” she replied sternly, her face going back to his lieutenant. “Ready, Sir?”

                He nodded and stepped towards his door.

                The blaring office lights continued to make his eyes and head hurt. The hangover loomed over him, his body aching. He didn’t show weakness though. He stood straight as he walked proudly through the halls with his lieutenant walking behind him in her place. He could do this. He could do today. After this morning, he could handle this week. He pushed the door open to his office and blinked as he saw his best friend sitting on his desk.

                “Hughes?”

                “Hey, Roy!” He sat there grinning holding a paper in his hand.

                “You shouldn’t be snooping on my desk,” Roy grinned. “You might be finding some private information.”

                Hughes waved the paper in the air. “I am in investigations,” his grin turned to a frown.

                Roy’s eyes grew as he realized what Hughes found. He looked around to see his office empty of his officers. “What is this?” He stepped forward quickly to snatch the paper, but Hughes pulled it from his reach. “Lieutenant Hawkeye, can I have a moment with my friend here?”

                She nodded and turned to leave.

                “Wait,” he growled. “Don’t go.”

                Hughes stood up and waved at her. “He’ll be fine. Just give me ten minutes.”

                Roy frowned as he turned to watch her step out, then turned to his friend. “Why are you here?”

                “Thought I’d come by and say hi. I came in and you weren’t here, but an envelope was on your desk with my name on it. I wasn’t snooping,” he tossed the letter back on Roy’s desk. “I was opening what was mine.”

                “Are you going to lecture me too?”

                “Too?”

                Roy grumped and sat down on the couch by his desk.

                “Roy,” Hughes said gently sitting down. “You smell like you were drinking all night. Would you like some coffee?”

                Roy looked up and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with annoyance. “Yeah, I could go for a cup.”

######

                Lieutenant Hawkeye stood dutifully on the other side of the door, guarding it from any intruders. She was wondering where the other officers were. None of them should have been gone at this time. She couldn’t hear the voices inside which meant that they weren’t yelling. It did make her incredibly nervous leaving him alone when she said that she wouldn’t leave his side. But, Riza Hawkeye didn’t show emotions let alone her anxiety. Her expression stayed firm and she stared straight ahead.

                “Oh, we didn’t think you’d make it in,” a familiar voice announced its presence.

                Lieutenant turned her head and nodded to Lieutenant Breda. “Good Morning.”

                “Almost afternoon,” He smirked. “Did Colonel get in also?”

                “He was quite drunk,” she rolled her eyes.

                “Interesting,” Breda leaned against the wall. “Hughes showed up about an hour and a half ago.”

                “He does stop by from time to time.” Hawkeye dismissed his presence.

                “I suppose so,” Breda nodded, taking a sip of coffee from his mug. “But he never asks us all to leave for the day.”

                Hawkeye raised her eyebrow.

                “I’m guessing that’s why you’re standing out here.”

                She still didn’t respond but turned to hear him out. His suspicions were generally on target.

                “And you never leave his side,” Breda grinned. “So, either Hughes is here to take Colonel into custody, or he’s here for a private chat.”

                “Colonel has done nothing wrong,” Hawkeye confirmed. She looked down the other hallway behind her. “So, the latter suspicion would be more correct.”

                “Huh,” he nodded, taking another sip. He didn’t say anything as he continued to lean against the wall. “Havoc was out cold.” He looked at her from the side. “I stayed with him most of the night listening to him make sacrifices to the toilet Gods.” Lieutenant Hawkeye didn’t move. “Did you stay with Colonel to make sure he was okay? Or did you just pick him up on the way to work?”

                Hawkeye didn’t respond directly to his question, but instead, she frowned. “He was very drunk.”

                Breda nodded and swirled the coffee left in his mug. “I didn’t add enough cream.” He sighed. “It’s pretty bitter today.”

                “Maybe it’s the lack of sleep,” she joked.

                “Maybe.” He turned and rolled his neck. “You going to stay here all day?”

                “Like you said, I never leave him.”

                Breda chuckled. “I wish I could find a girl as loyal as you. I’m going to check up on our absentee. I’ll check back in a few more hours.”

                Hawkeye turned her head back towards her friend. “Tell Havoc for me that he’s gotten to be a light weight in his old age.”

                Breda chuckled. “Sure thing, Hawkeye.”

                She watched him leave, smirking before another officer walked up to her. “Is Colonel Mustang in?”

                She nodded. “He’s in a private meeting.”

                He frowned. “That will not do. He’s been gone all morning.”

                “He was on patrol, Sir.” Hawkeye stepped in front of him, blocking him from the door. “I have specific orders not to let anyone in. Can I give him something for you? A message?”

                “Let him know that General Grumman has asked for him.”

                Hawkeye nodded. “Do you know why?”

                “Something about a friendly bout?”

                _Chess_ , she though humorously. “He will know, I’m sure. I will send him as soon as possible.”

                The officer handed her an envelope. “These need to be signed also, before the days end. It’s permitting that his troops go on patrol and duty for a week.”

                She nodded. They often went away for a week or so at a time to check in on rural providences and towns. “I will make sure it’s taken care of.”

                He turned to walk away and turned back. “If he’s sleeping-“

                “He’s not,” she stopped him. “He’ll be done in a few minutes.”

                Hawkeye’s stomach turned as she looked back at the door. It was still quiet. She hoped that it was going well. She felt that she had done a good part of it, but she wondered what Hughes could even tell him to make him in a better mood. She scorned at herself. It wasn’t her business, and if they wanted her to know, they’d tell her.

######

                Hughes opened the door and looked around. “Hawkeye,” he whispered.

                She turned and nodded, being able to see her Colonel on the couch with his head in his hands. It frustrated her considering the fact that she had gotten him out of that state before getting here. “Is it going well?”

                “Can you go get us something from the cafeteria? I haven't eaten all morning and I'm sure Roy-Boy here could use some breakfast.”

                Hawkeye nodded as she rolled her eyes.

                He nodded and shut the door. Hughes stepped carefully over to his friend and sat down on the opposing couch. “There, food is on its way!" When Mustang didn't respond, Hughes added, "What are you thinking?”

                “I’m more embarrassed,” he admitted.

                Hughes chuckled and sipped on his own mug of coffee. “Well, I’m still pissed you didn’t call me.”

                Mustang grumped raising his face from his hands. “Hawkeye had a letter too…”

                Hughes nodded. “Oh,” he grinned. “I saw that too.”

                Mustang’s face turned deep red remembering what was in the letter.

                Hughes continued to laugh. “I had suspicions…” He leaned forward. “Do you know what kind of trouble that gets you into?”

                Roy sniffed loudly. “Yeah, because I’m so worried about that.” His tone was sarcastic, clearly indicating his lack of concern.

                “You should be,” Hughes warned sharply. “I’m sure you know that your enemies are looking for any kind of weakness. The last thing any of us need is you court marshaled.”

                Roy hmphed. He knew his friend was right.

                “I just don’t want to see you get in trouble.” Hughes reached into his pocket and pulled out a picture of his wife and held it in his hands and he leaned forward. “You’re lucky that you a have a friend who would be in the department that would investigate that kind of accusation.”

                Roy chuckled, smiling for the first time during the meeting.

                “Look,” Hughes added. “I want you to be happy. And I think she does make you happy. Maybe not as happy as Gracia and I…” Hughes waved the picture with a grin. “But I can tell you love her.”

                Roy wasn’t sure if he could admit that out loud. He was far cockier when it came to become Führer.

                “Don’t loose that,” Hughes leaned over, closer to his best friend. “The best thing that ever happened to me was Gracia. Don’t lose _her_.”

                The door opened slowly, and Hughes leaned back in loud laughter. “Ah! Lieutenant Hawkeye! Have you seen the latest photo of Gracia?”

                Hawkeye rolled her eyes as she dropped two older breakfast sandwiches on the coffee table and walked by, placing the papers on Mustang’s desk. "Feeling better, Colonel?"

                “He is after seeing my darling pregnant wife!” Hughes waved the photo in the air. “Did I mention she was pregnant?”

                “How long are you staying?” Hawkeye asked, walking behind Mustang and standing with her hands behind her back. “Should I arrange a room for you in the barracks?” She might as well play dumb in this instance. She figured he was going to be staying longer than a few days. 

                Hughes shrugged. “I thought I’d stay with my best friend here. He kindly offered to take me to dinner.”

                “You two are adorable,” she joked.

                “You think my Gracia would get jealous?”

                “No, but you will be next time I’m in Central,” Mustang grinned.

                Hughes glared at his friend. “Gracia loves me, I know she isn’t sneaking you on the side.” His face grew stern. “So, does she know?”

                Hawkeye’s raised her eyebrows but didn’t speak as Hughes was speaking with Mustang.

                “No.”

                Hughes shrugged. “Not my business,” he stood up. “It will leave you with that conversation starter while I’m getting lunch. Enjoy your breakfast!.” He waved as he walked to the door. “Do you two want anything while I’m out?”

                “Maybe for you to stay away.”

                “No chance, Friend. You’re stuck with me until you are out of _coffee_.”

                The door shut as he walked out, and Hawkeye looked at her Colonel. “What don’t I know? Can I ask?”

                “No,” he said firmly, crossing his arms. “You may not.” He crossed his legs, tapping his foot in the air.

                “Did he help.”

                Colonel grumbled as if he was just lectured by an overbearing parent. “Yeah.”

                “You’re not going to shut me out, are you?” Hawkeye leaned on the couch, looking at Mustang from the opposite side.

                He sighed heavily but didn’t say anything. His eyes stayed closed with conflict building in his chest. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to keep her in the dark, nor did he ever mean to hurt her. But what the letter said were his last words to her. And he had reconsidered his actions now, removing the need for those words to be spoken.

                “What did you two talk about?”

                Mustang raised his head to that and shrugged. “This and that.” He stood up and stretched his shoulders and neck. “Nothing I haven’t heard before.” He stood a little straighter as he walked to his large windows and looked out towards the front courtyard. He folded his hands behind him. He could see he was thinking by the way his hand gripped his other hand behind him.

                Hawkeye had to smirk. Hughes and he had a bond that even she was a bit jealous of. Maybe it was a different type of relationship, but it was still special. She walked behind him as she pulled the papers from the folder. “General Grumman has requested you. And there are papers to send Mells and Tounet south for review of a mining area. They are being deployed for patrol. It looks like they are sending about 30 men.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “It needs to be done today.”

                “Seems like an awful lot of men for a simple inspection.” He turned around, tapping his finger to his chin. “Grumman signed off on this?”

                “Yes, Sir.”

                “Huh, I’m curious what this is really about. I wonder if one kid can handle it.”

                “Fullmetal?”

                “Don’t you think for an inspection with actual troops is necessary?”

                She looked at the back of his head, seeing the thick locks of his black hair fall haphazardly. “Grumman also requested you for your regular chess match with him. Do you think he wants to talk about this too?”

                He shrugged, standing up. “I’ll have to ask him. 30 troops tell me we are handling an uprising, not conducting an inspection…”

                Hawkeye didn’t say anything as she watched her Colonel. He was so much more clear headed, looking deeper into the order like he usually did. Colonel Mustang was known by his men to be critical and detailed. He was showing his natural character again. She could see his confidence, his drive back in his eyes. It made her smile with the hope that the man who she’d follow into Hell was back.

                “I can’t obsess over my sins,” he said lowly. “I need to listen to my own advice sometimes.”

                She tilted her head as she watched him walk casually towards to the door. He stuck his hand in his pocket and waved with his other hand. “Sir?”

                “I’m going to go see General Grumman. Don’t wait up for me.”

                He opened the door and stepped out, leaving Hawkeye alone in the office. She looked back at the fresh coffee brewing. If Hughes was staying with him, she wouldn’t have to worry about Mustang. Hawkeye sat down at her desk and opened her drawer. “Well, now at least with everyone gone, I can get some of this organized.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well then! He got caught. I mean, it's a good thing he got caught.   
> Let me know what you're thinking!   
> And thank you for being a reader! 
> 
> Happy Valentine's day!


	6. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riza tries to get Roy to tell her what he's thinking, and what Hughes was talking about, but Roy won't talk.

               Mustang shoved his hands in his pockets as he strolled down the hall. He didn’t have his chest puffed out like he normally did, but also wasn’t slumped over as he had been. His mind was on Hughes’ words to him. Hughes knew Mustang enough to know that it’s easy to say something simple and let Mustang think on it. And that is what was happening. It wasn’t like him in the least to get that low, and if he did need help, he needed to find it. He had his team to help him succeed and if he didn’t allow his team to help him, he had let them all down. It was his obligation to his team, to his country… His sins in Ishval did not disappear with the gun to his head. It didn’t change anything. There was no lesser truth than that.

                Roy opened the doors to his office and saw Breda with his feet up on the desk and Hawkeye by the coffee pot. He raised his eyebrow. “I leave on official business and this is what my staff is doing while I’m gone?”

                “Havoc is still in bed recovering from last night,” Breda replied. He sat up in his seat, putting his feet on the ground. “We were wondering if you knew had any guesses to where Fuery was.”

                Mustang rubbed his face with his palm. “My staff is so lazy.”

                “Well, they do say that a well-trained staff follows the leader’s example.” Hawkeye pet the coffee pot back down and held her cup comfortably. 

                Roy glared at Hawkeye who remained emotionless. “Actually, Lieutenant,” he began, turning to her, raising his eyebrow. “The staff should be better than the leader, so the leader gets promoted and becomes General.”

                “That’s not going to happen,” Breda joked. He tapped a pen on his desk with some kind of rhythm. “The rate we are going, we should all be demoted next year.”

                “That’s not something to joke about,” Hawkeye frowned. “Can you imagine if Colonel got demoted and I was your boss?”

                It was a valid threat, but not intimidating to Breda who grinned. “Maybe I’ll get a promotion and we can toss those fraternization laws out the window.”

                “Hey,” Roy interrupted loudly, sitting in his chair. “Second Lieutenant Breda, retrieve Second Lieutenant Havoc and drag him in here. I don’t care what conditions he’s in, his ass has work to do.”

                Breda got up slowly and saluted lazily. “This is going to be rich,” he snickered, walking out of the office. “That’s the Colonel we love so much.” He heard her snicker behind him.

                “What are we going to do,” he sighed, putting his head in his hands.

                “What do you mean, Sir?”

                “About me?”

                Hawkeye handed him a fresh cup of coffee. “Keep moving forward. Isn’t that you keep telling your protégé?”

                Roy leaned back in his chair, holding her coffee to his chest. “I’m not sure calling Fullmetal my protégé is correct.”

                “Speaking of Fullmetal,” she pointed to a paper on his desk that was new. “He sent his spending report in. You need to approve these.”

                He groaned loudly pulling the paper towards him. “Hawkeye,” he whispered. “this cup of coffee isn’t strong enough.”

                She bit her lip as she watched him look over the form. “What can I do to make it better, Sir?”

                “And he thinks I’m going to pay for…” He growled, throwing his pen on the desk. “Coffee is always better with friends, don’t you think?”

                She nodded as she looked over the paper. “I do, Sir. Would you like me to arrange you and Hughes to go out for coffee this evening? Will you last that long without good coffee?” She pointed to a number on the paper. “You should go easy on Fullmetal. You were his age at one point too.”

                “I wasn’t running around spending the government’s money like this,” he groaned. “The kid is bleeding my budget dry.” He crossed his arms as he turned in his seat and looked out the window. “No,” he shook his head. “I think a date with Elizabeth will be better.”

                “Sir,” Hawkeye rolled her eyes as she turned and returned to her desk. “I wish you wouldn’t speak about her here. You know how I feel about her.”

                He leaned back over his desk, groaning again. “Seriously, he wants me to pay for Alphonse’s freaking polish!”

####

                Hawkeye looked in the hall as she approached the closet. When everyone was clear, she opened it to see Colonel standing there with his arm’s crossed, leaning against the wall.

                “Yes,” she said sourly, shutting the door and locking it. “Because hanging out in a dark secluded closet isn’t depressing at all.”

                “I don’t even think the janitors know this closet exists.” He pointed to some cleaner on a shelf. “This has enough dust on it that indicates it’s been here for months.” He nodded next to the sponges. “And those haven’t moved in weeks.”

                Hawkeye rolled her eyes, rubbing her forhead with her fingers. This meant that he came here often, probably to nap. “How was your meeting with Hughes?”

                He nodded. “It was good. I think I needed it.”

                She nodded, watching his reactions. His eye contact was steady, firm on her. But he didn't say anything else. He chewed on his lip and waited nervously for her to say something, and she saw right through it. 

                “Not that you didn’t help,” he added quietly stepping forward, putting his hands on her hips. “I’m glad you cared.”

                Hawkeye’s hands settled to rest on his. “Why do I feel that you aren’t telling me anything?”

                He frowned. “What do you want to know?”

                “You said you’d talk to me. But it seems that you are thinking about things, but not talking about them. How am I, or Hughes, supposed to help you if you can’t talk to us.”

                “It’s never been like me to talk,” he dismissed her concerns. “What would it matter anyway?”

                Hawkeye’s hands glided up his arms, over his shoulders, resting flat against his breasts. “It does matter,” she whispered firmly. She wanted to yell it at him, but they were in a closet and supposed to be quiet. “The way you were staring at the door, you looked lost, tired, and I could have guessed you were back to ending it all.” He snorted and looked away. That wasn't a clear indicator of shame. Hawkeye grumped. “Damn it, Mustang,” she growled lower, grabbing his uniform in her fists.

                “I’m not going to kill myself.” He looked seriously at her. His brows low, his eyes dark and focused. “Not today at least,” he finished, whispering, breathing the admittance that he hadn't disposed of the idea completely.

                She let go of his shirt and stepped back from his grasp. “You can’t be serious,” she gasped. “You are still thinking of it?”

                His hands dropped to his side and he looked away, feeling embarrassed about admitting his feelings. “The only reason I can’t is this morning was because you were there,” he muttered. He rubbed his face with his hands. "I'm working through it, I just need to find more reasons I suppose."

                She groaned as she threw her hands in the air with frustration and looked up at the light. “That can’t be the only reason to live.” It was hard to stay quiet in the closet when she was so angry with him.

                He grumped. He was finally talking to her and she was arguing with him. It was only reinforcing his silence. They stood there quietly, him unable to look at her in the eyes, and her gaze begging to be met. “What did Hughes say to you?”

                “Nothing,” he breathed. “We just talked.” Mustang could still see his fingers holding the pen, writing out his letter to her…

                Her hands collided with his chest and she stepped forward angerly. “You’re telling me that suddenly there was no reasoning from Hughes. He said something about me knowing! What don't' I know?” It came out more of a sneer whether she wanted it to or not. 

                “I can’t talk about it with you.”

                She felt her chest sink with the words. His bodyguard, his best friend, his lover... and he couldn't talk about it with her. Was it even her place to ask him about it? Or would he only shut her out and distance himself from her when she overstepped her role?

                “Not yet,” he whispered lower. He reached out for her again, pulling at the bottom of her shirt, drawing her gently towards him. “I can’t lose you. I can’t lose any of you.”

                “And you think that we can afford to lose you?”

                He chewed on his bottom lip as he thought about that, but still refused to acknowledge her gaze.

                “How am I supposed to achieve redemption? You promised that you’d give me that. That we would change this whole system.”

                A heavy sigh filled the dimly lit closet. “He said that…”

                Hawkeye nodded quietly and reached up to cup his face, moving it so that he’d look at her. Tears threatened to burst free again. He was bottling up this guilt upon his guilt, upon more guilt. “You have to let this go. You have to focus.”

                He nodded ever so slowly. Mustang reached out to her hips again, tightening his hold on her uniform. She could feel his grip tighten. “I’m trying. Just know that I’m trying.”

                She raised her hand, brushing the hair from his eyes. “You seriously need a haircut.” The lips loosened as they curled lightly at the ends.

                They stood there for a second more before he leaned in to kiss her. Like his own death, Hawkeye stopped him. She put a hand on his chest and frowned.

                “Sir,” she whispered. “We really shouldn’t.”

                He visibly pouted and huffed.

                “Not here,” she said firmly. “Go home, be with Hughes. Enjoy his company. And ask about his pregnant wife. I know you actually care.”

                He dropped his hands from her hips. It was an awkward point. His intentions were clear, and her stance on it was clear, but neither seemed to move. She was waiting for him to say something, and he was waiting for her to leave. The uncomfortable atmosphere remained thick. He looked over at the shelf, handing her a sponge and some light cleaner. “Go clean Havoc up. And tell him to shave.” It wasn’t a soldier cleaner. It was window cleaner, but she knew the inclination.

                She chuckled. “He has an hour left of work.”

                “No,” Mustang corrected. “He’s doing eight hours today. He needs to look as if he’s on my team.” He was pissed off that he was being denied, and maybe it was showing. But he had too much going on in his head. It was as if he had two people in his brain arguing incisively. Between endless nightmares, bickering voices, and exhaustion, suicide sounded lovely. Hawkeye and Hughes were right though. He had deeper obligations, ones that involved _everyone_ around him. He was Roy Mustang, and he couldn’t let this get to him.

                “Yes, Sir.” She opened the door with the supplies letting it fall softly. She stood there for just a second before knocking on the door twice that no one was in the hall for him to follow. They walked in separate directions and the meeting was over. Hawkeye couldn’t help looking over her shoulder at him as she walked away. There was more to him than anyone knew, and she believed that due to their past, it exemplified their ability to tolerate each other.

####

                Roy welcomed his best friend into his home. He’d been in East City long enough to actually establish a home, but it was still empty. There was no reason to collect treasures if he was going to move or be deployed. It was simple with a couch, table, and a bedroom. There was a plant that Riza gave him, insisting that he had to have something in the corner, but he rarely watered it. He honestly wondered how it was still alive.

                “At least you’re not a slob anymore,” his friend joked, elbowing him as he hung up his jacket. He walked over to his small kitchen and looked around. “You don’t have any food. But look at all this liquor.”

                “You’re a good detective.” Roy leaned against the opposite wall and grinned.

                “That’s why I’m in Investigations,” Maes smarted back at him.

                “I didn’t need food where I was going.”

                “I guess I should be thankful we ate before coming here than!” Maes laughed loudly and moved to the couch where he collapsed and put his feet up on the coffee table. “What a long day! You East City people work too hard!”

                “My department would argue that,” Roy laughed. He sat in the chair by the couch and unbuttoned his uniform, letting his white shirt show underneath. He could feel Riza’s hands buttoning the white shirt up still. In the back of his mind, with his eyes closed, he could see her in front of him smiling as she did when they were alone. He sighed, letting his head fall back. He didn’t get too much sleep the night before due to his drinking contest with Jean. He was tired enough to just sleep right there, but he was certain that Maes would want to talk a bit more. “How is Gracia? I hope the pregnancy isn’t straining her health.”

                “Naw,” he heard Maes exhale. “She’s doing really well. Man, I thought she was beautiful before she was pregnant… Roy, there’s a certain glow to her now.”

                He nodded, but really didn’t move. His arms felt like they were going to sink into the armchair armrests.

                “You ever going to get married and have kids?”

                Roy's chest sunk with the long exasperated sigh. “Maes, we have talked about this. I don’t think so,” Roy muttered back. “I think it’d hold me back.” He lifted his head with a yawn, opening his eyes enough to see his friend looking back at him with a gentle smile. He ran his hand through his hair, scratching his scalp. “… But I think I’ll just get a dog or something…”

                “I can see you with a dog,” Maes chuckled. “But I also can see you with a miniature of yourself.”

                “What are you getting at? Do you want me to give up and settle down like you?”

                Maes quickly shook his head. “Who said I was ever giving up?” Maes slapped his friend's knee with the back of his hand. “I said that I’d push you from the bottom up. I said I was going to help you in any way. And… here I am.” He watched as Roy didn’t move. “You’re a good man, Roy.”

                He chuckled and laid his head back again. “Not everyone would agree with that.”

                “You dating anyone?”

                “Meh.”

                “Except Hawkeye…”

                “I’m not dating her.”

                “Roy, I read the letter.”

                “Speaking of which,” Roy sat up and leaned forward. “Where is that letter?”

                Maes just grinned. “It’s safe.”

                Roy glared and then grinned. It was good to have his friend there, even if it was on disappointing terms. Maes Hughes was firm and corrective. Roy could easily see him as a father. He was soft, cuddly, and gentle, but firm and confident when he needed to be. Roy had seen him in both these states. He was so well balanced. Yet their lives were so much different. Their attitude toward life was different. Maes was high energy, happy person, who was not afraid of being eccentric. Roy tried his best to remain professional. He wanted to be taken seriously after all. Maes sat there grinning at him. His black hair had fallen out of place, and his shoulder sagged his own fatigue.

                “Remember what you promised me,” Hughes leaned back on the couch. “In Ishval… do you remember what you said you were going to do?”

                Roy raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to lecture me now?”

                Hughes shook his head. “No, Roy. I’m not going to let you forget.” He stood up and looked around as he put his hands on his hips. “You’ve had quite the day. Let’s get you to bed.”

                Roy yawned as sleep was mentioned. “I have an extra blanket,” he motioned to the back of the couch. “Or you can have the bed.”

                “Couch is fine,” Maes’ stood up and started undressing. “I don’t need to stop you from doing something stupid tonight, am I?”

                Roy grinned over his shoulder. “I’m too tired to do anything. We can decide that in the morning.”

                “Good night.”

                “Night Maes.”

                Roy stripped down to his boxers, settling into his bed. He wiggled a little, settling into his pillow and sheets. He could already hear Maes snoring in the other room. Roy didn’t want to sleep. His pillow smelled like _her_. With every breath, he could smell her, her sweat, her shampoo, her fluids. Everything smelled of her. He didn’t want to leave his bed. He wanted to bury himself in his blankets and breathe in Riza Hawkeye. As he closed his eyes, he could see her, the brown eyes, slight and telling smile, and her long flowing golden hair. He could almost feel her touch, her fingers on his chest, her lips on his cheek. All he could think about was the tender way she unbuttoned his shirt yesterday morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit it a bit, this was a filler chapter. And I feel that it was crappily written. I'm not happy with it. Maybe I will go through the next chapter and see if I can spruce it up more. 
> 
> Thank you for being a reader!


	7. A New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day two. Hughes' and Hawkeye's interactions throughout the day and how Roy is avoiding work.

                Getting up in the morning was not easy. Roy was assaulted by the sunrays as his so-called friend ripped open the curtains. “Good morning!” Maes stood over him with his signature grin. “Ready for an exciting day?” He was fully dressed, hands on his hips, and happy as ever. 

                Roy glared in return. He was ready to murder Maes and began diabolically setting about a plan to dispose of his friend and return to the comfort of the dark room and warm bed. He rolled over and groaned angerly. “As an officer ranked above you, I command you to leave me be.”

                Maes only laughed. Roy didn’t know how he was always so chipper. The man reeked of joy and energy. “Roy-Boy! You can’t sleep all day.”

                “I can and I will,” a mutter came from the pillow Roy had his face buried in. He groaned and began curling into the fetal position as his body began to ache with the waking of the day.

                “Come on, I’m going to go get breakfast. You better get a shower and shave.” He slapped his friend’s cheek lightly. “If you’re not up and cleaned up, the shower will come to you.” Maes gave him a shove on the shoulder as he walked out of the room. Memories of the academy rushed into Roy’s mind of cold water being dumped on him to wake him up. He listened as he heard a few steps in the living room and then the door open and shut. He lifted his head, squinting in the light of the newborn sun. He did need to get up. The room was lit brightly as he dragged his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing his face roughly to help him wake up. The dreams of war and pain still plagued him, but he slept through the night despite it.

                Roy scratched his head as he headed to the shower. The hot water ran over him as he leaned against the wall, hands reached out. The heat penetrated his muscles and the beating water on his back relieved him of the soreness of sleep. He applied shampoo, rubbing it in unenthusiastically. His actions were sluggish at best. At one point, he just lifted his face to the water, letting the deluge baptize him in the day’s energy. It didn’t seem to work. He knew he needed to try to be positive, to think objectively, and to look towards the future.  It was just hard without the long sleep his body and mind ached for.

                He dried himself with the same energy as the shower. With the towel wrapped around his waist, he looked at himself in the mirror. He couldn’t understand what he saw was worth saving, but Riza and Maes did. _Riza_ , he thought as he lathered his face to shave. He had to do it for her. He had to overcome this burden and be the man that she knew and loved. _If she’s going to follow me to Hell, I better lead the way,_ he thought humorously. His features grew firm as he nodded at himself. _One day at a time, I will lead us to victory. I didn’t become a Colonel by giving up_.

                Maes followed through with his promise and arrived with an armful of food which he began to properly shove down Roy’s gullet. “I am going to go in later,” he said as he chewed. “Do you happen to have information on the case with Lieutenant Colonel Riley?”

                Roy nodded quietly. “Yeah. About the raping and murder of Ms. Vale?”

                “Can I get that info? That’s one of my excuses for being here.” He grinned and leaned back in his chair, drinking a heavy gulp of the warm coffee. “That and the two privates that seem to have disappeared. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

                Roy frowned. He knew the case. Two young men just disappeared two weeks ago. They were declared MIA and deserters, but there was no evidence to trail to even follow. “Havoc has been working on it, so I’ve seen some stuff. They are registered deserters.”

                “So it seems,” Maes nodded. “But do you have any leads?”

                Roy raised an eyebrow. He also thought it was strange. He had spies and lookout all throughout the area, and none of them had reported their existence. “I have no leads on them. We suspect they made a run for the desert and to Xing.”

                “Do you think they could have been kidnapped?”

                He leaned over the desk, folding his hands over his mouth as he thought about it. “Who is kidnapping soldiers?”

                Maes shrugged. “I wish I knew. But there have been a few other missing posts. Not enough to call on a search for a murderer. And they are all over the country, not centrally located.”

                Roy stood up and moved to the doorway. “I’ll review it with my staff. Don’t mess up my bathroom with your morning joy,” he joked. “See you later.”

                Maes waved over his shoulder as he stood up to take his plate to the sink.

                Roy decided to walk instead of drive to work. The walk wasn’t terribly long, and he hoped the fresh air would do him some good. He liked to mingle with the population anyway. It was a tactic his foster mom had built into him. Gaining the support of the people carries more power. If the people will fight for you, your army then gains power through popularity and faith in your convictions. He didn’t have to preach to anyone though. He wasn’t as blatant as he was with his staff. He’d pick up some flowers for his desk, giving a sweet compliment to the florist who was nagging him for a date. He said good morning to the butcher who was loading new carcasses into his shop. He even made a point to go an extra block to give a wave to some privates who were on patrol themselves.

                But his mind was still clouded as he opened the doors to the headquarters. He felt embarrassed for his moment of weakness, especially shown to his second in charge, his lieutenant. All while he walked down the halls, he tried his best to look like his normal stern stare, but inside he was trying to remind himself of all his strengths. He could hear Hughes in his head and all the words that they exchanged the day before. It wasn’t going to be an overnight recovery, but he couldn’t let it win. Never had he let someone else win in a fight. Even in the rain, he controlled the situation bravely and calmly. This was no different.

####

                “There you are,” Sargent Fuery grinned from his seat.

                Mustang nodded. “Is everyone getting breakfast?” He looked around noticing the empty desks.

                “Yeah,” Fuery nodded. “They know it’s late, but Lieutenant Hawkeye ordered them to go.”

                He frowned. “Then where is she?” He put his hands in his pockets and dropped his shoulders. It wasn’t like her to just disappear. Thoughts rushed through as he wondered if he was late for a meeting.

                Fuery shrugged and picked up a screwdriver to get back into his project. “She said something about Hughes and left.”

                “Speaking of yesterday.” Roy grinned, looking down at his Sargent. “Where were you?”

                Fuery froze, slowly looking up with an apologetic smile.

                “It’s not like you to be late, or absent.”

                Fuery stood up, accepting his fault with a hung head. “My apologies, Colonel. I have no defense for my absence.” However, both of them knew it was in the indulgence of alcohol that was the culprit for the young officer’s absence.

                Mustang looked behind him at the door, still wondering where Hawkeye was. He wasn’t going to follow or look for her but instead made his way to his desk. “I expect you to make those hours up as your punishment.”

                “But,” Fuery started to argue but stopped as Roy looked up at him. “Yes Sir. I will make up the work that was lost.”

                Mustang leaned back in his chair as he opened the paper that he picked up on his walk and began looking through it. “Look here,” he chuckled. “Seems that Ms. Everland is marrying Mr. Darcy after all.”

                Fuery chuckled as he pulled a panel off his radio. “Your interest in what you call news is amusing.”

                “Your hobby of tinkering with radios amuses me.” Mustang grinned at his younger officer. “Nonetheless, we both fulfill our purposes precisely, correct?”

                Fuery smiled and started pulling out a burnt wire. “Working like a well-oiled machine, Sir.”

                He would have read the paper, sucking up the gossip that it produced, but his mind was back on Hawkeye. He wanted to apologize to her, properly, and promise that he’d be better. She deserved it. She was the one so dedicated to him. Maes Hughes’ words reverberated in his thoughts. Words wouldn’t properly explain his own dedication to her. Those words in that letter couldn’t even convey his feelings. And maybe they’d never be expressed. Maybe they’d just be a sexual relief, a simple pastime for them. It wasn’t fair, but unless he wanted to change things within his staff structure and obligation, he’d have to play the military’s game.

                When she did walk in, he watched her smile at Fuery, giving him an apple as he showed her the faulty wiring of his toy. Her hips mesmerized him, exciting him, and all he could think of was his hands on them as he tasted her. Her dark brown eyes donned determination as she looked at her desk, going over a few papers. His veins pulsed loudly in his ear, his pants growing tight with the memories of them. It was a daily occurrence, one that he alone suffered. As he demanded control, her presence was the only one he felt challenge him. It was overwhelming some days. Reflections of her ivory body beneath his, glowing in the moonlight, her breathing labored, and the taste of her sweat flooded his senses. As she did every day, she looked up and lifted her eyebrows with a gentle gaze. She surely knew of his lecherous dreams.

                “What do you think about sending a patrol to the desert’s borders?” He spun the chair around so that he could look out the window.

                 She smiled as he looked over his shoulder for a mere moment before thinking seriously.

                “What do you think is on the border?” Fuery asked, looking up from his work.

                “The two officers that abandoned their posts may have run towards the desert.” He turned his chair back around, drinking his cool coffee, leaning against his desk.

                “They’ve been gone so long, they wouldn’t be hanging out at the border.” Mustang looked at his Lieutenant as she thought on it. “They couldn’t have gotten that far without supplies as well.”

                “Wouldn’t they just go home,” Fuery offered. “Where were they from?”

                Mustang didn’t answer. He crossed his legs, hoping the uncomfortable erection would dissipate. “Hughes brought it up at breakfast. He’s investigating their disappearance.”

                “But disappearance means that they didn’t walk away.”

                Hawkeye looked at the younger one in the room. “Why would you say that?”

                “If Lieutenant Colonel said disappearance instead of abandonment or desertion, maybe he’s indicating that they vanished rather than left.” Fuery blinked a few times as he explained his thoughts. Mustang and Hawkeye blinked back, not in astonishment of his clarification, but more like in deeper thought. Hawkeye, of course, had not heard what Hughes had said earlier, but Mustang still pondered on the idea that they were kidnapped or disposed of.

                “And that’s why we have you around,” he commented brightly.

                “It’s certainly a thought to consider,” Hawkeye quickly agreed. “We shouldn’t dismiss any possibilities.”

                Mustang put his hands behind his head, leaning back in his chair.

                “How’s your coffee, Sir?”

                He raised an eyebrow towards her. “Bitter, as usual. I need to find some cream.”

                “There’s some in the breakroom,” Fuery said as he went back to work.

                “Why don’t you fetch some,” he ordered. “If you see Havoc, tell him to I need the Vale rape case on my desk by noon.”

                He nodded as he got up and left, leaving the two alone. Roy looked back at her. Her eyes looked on, concerned as she should be. “I need a distraction.” He got up, going over to her desk, leaning his backside on it, crossing his arms.

                “What are you thinking?”

                What was he thinking? His thoughts were plagued with her smiling, basking in the after-sex glow of her face, her smile… How his fingers would trace over her figure, feeling every curve and sway of her body. He had her memorized and how his fingers merely traveled over her like they were simply slipping along a familiar trail for recreation. In the dark, her mapped body would be swarmed with exploration, like a topographic map which was being drawn in the recess of his mind. Her heart would beat against his as she curled tight against him, her leg intertwined with his, and sometimes she rubs her foot against his. In a world of outlawed touches and affections, the scenes of intimacy they played were close and detailed in passion.

                “I’m wondering how I can talk to you without General Hakuro nosing in our business.” He turned his head to look at her. He wanted to see her approval, her need for his caresses and kisses.

                She only and turned back to her papers. “It’s not raining,” she said softly. “I am glad I left my coat at home.”

                He grinned. “I will need mine tonight when it gets chilly. You know how late I tend to stay.” He stood up and started to walk out the door. “Hughes and I are doing lunch later. I hope that you will join us.”

                “I’ll be there.”

####

                Moments of silence were always appreciated by Hawkeye. When the rest of the team was present, they tended to follow in the Colonel’s lackadaisical tendencies and slack off. Falman returned today from his vacation and the team went back to their normal recreation of taking bets on the horse racing that was taking place in the corral. It wasn’t supposed to be happening, but no one would narc. It wasn’t surprising to see Falman to be beating the rest of them even in his recent absence. As she filled out the last report, she put it on Colonel’s desk and heard the door open and the room filled with the loud bickering of the group of young men. She rolled her eyes. That was short lived.

                In reality, she used her free time to look busy. She wasn’t actually busy. The truth of this month was that is was actually pretty laid back. Havoc and Falman were the only ones actually busy. So, she bided her time with daydreaming. She considered herself rather professional, but it was merely 24 hours after Mustang’s intervention, so her emotions were a bit flip-floppy.

                “Hawkeye,” Breda called from across the room.

                She looked up from her paper to see Hughes standing in the door.

                “Where the hell is Mustang now?”

                Hawkeye tilted her head as she began to think. “Actually, I don’t know. He just left.”

                Hughes threw his arms in the air. “You had one job, Hawkeye! One job!” He turned quickly and marched out of the room in search of his friend.

                The gang looked at her questioningly.

                “I had one job,” she sighed.

                Falman handed a stack of papers to Havoc as he leaned forward. “When Hughes comes around, it seems we are more chaotic than normal.”

                Havoc chuckled and took the papers.

                “The Vale case is still undergoing, but I heard that Hughes wanted to look at them.”

                Havoc nodded looking through them, peeking up at Hawkeye before going back to the papers.

                Hawkeye was deep in thought, staring off as she tried to determine where Mustang disappear off to. She looked at the coffee pot, his empty chair, and at Havoc who kept looking up at her. “Do you know where he is?”

                Havoc shook his head. “But I’m wondering how you don’t know where he is.”

                “He only disappears when he’s sleeping,” Falman observed as he rubbed his chin.

                Hawkeye shook her head slowly. “I usually know where he’s sleeping.”

                “Do you?”

                Hawkeye frowned before getting up and walking out the door in a hurry.

                “Seriously, how does everyone keep leaving without us knowing where they are going?”

                Breda shrugged at Havoc’s outburst.

####

                The halls were busier than normal, but it didn’t bother her. There was a lot going on with the announcement of General Raven visiting. Word was that he and General Grumman knew each other rather well. It didn’t matter. She had one good idea of where Mustang was, and she had every intention of waking his lazy ass up. She arrived at the closet door and found it locked. “God damn it, Colonel,” she growled. Because of everyone in the halls, she couldn’t even bang on the wall and yell at him. “Fine,” she countered. “Well played. But the war isn’t over, Colonel.” She quickly turned and went back the other way.

                Two officers tried to stop her in the office, but she guessed by the fiery glare and grumbles that she immitted, they stopped short and let her by. She about threw the door open to the janitorial office and grabbed a ring of keys. The man sitting at the desk covered his face with the daily paper once he saw her face and pretended not to notice her. She turned back on her heel and returned to the closet. _He better be in there_ , she thought madly. _Actually, he better not be in there. Maybe it’s locked like they are supposed to be and he’s somewhere else_. She looked through the keys, tapping her toe as she looked for the proper one. She tried one, two, and on the third, she turned, it unlocked. She peered in to see, carefully and slowly to see him with a towel in his hand and a bottle of cleaner.

                “Oh, Hawkeye…”

                She cut him off. “You were sleeping, weren’t you?”

                He smiled weakly, knowing he was caught. He threw the towel back on the rack and set the bottle down as she stepped in, shutting the door behind her.

                “You just got in,” she whispered. “You’re starting the day early.”

                “I’m tired,” he argued.

                She face-palmed and groaned.

                “I wasn’t going to sleep the whole time,” he chuckled. “Just while I was supposed to be at my desk.”

                “You can’t sleep all day,” she argued.

                He sighed. “Look, Hughes is entirely too enthusiastic in the mornings. It wore me out.”

                “He’s looking for you,” she leaned against the door looking skeptical.

                “Don’t tell him I’m here,” he begged. “I have an hour more till lunch time. Just make sure that he gets the proper documents and let me sleep.”

                She grumbled, looking up at him, clearly disappointed.

                “Hawkeye,” he whispered. “I’m… I’m having these awful dreams,” he admitted. “And it’s robbing me of any sleep that I do get.”

                She sighed and reached out to him. “It’s okay,” she comforted. “But you can’t stay here and sleep.”

                He grumped, clearly pouting with disappointment.

                “There are a lot of people in halls,” she warned as she turned around, grabbing the door handle. As she started opening it, she felt two hands grab her hips and pull her back roughly.

                His lips were instantly on her neck, his breath hot in his ear. “You could help me wake up.”

                She rolled her eyes and stepped away, swatting at his hands. “General Raven is arriving this evening. We have to look professional.”

                “Looking is acting,” he smarted off. “I’ve been doing that for years.”

                She rolled her eyes.

                “Fine,” he grumped lowly. “You know that by the time he gets here I’m not going to be in the office.”

                She raised her eyebrows. “You’re on the list to welcome him in.”

                “Oh,” he scratched his face, looking down. "I thought that we made it clear with the rain jackets.” He pouted. “Weren’t we going to meet at your place for some private time?”

                She opened the door, shutting it with a slam.

                “I guess not anymore,” he yawned, sliding back onto the floor. “I have an hour before lunch…”

####

                Roy rolled his neck as he stretched his shoulders as he walked into the mess hall looking for his friend and his Lieutenant. They were chatting away in the corner of the room. After he got himself some chowder and a roll, sitting down next to Hughes. “Looks good,” he grinned as he took a bite.

                The two stopped talking and looked at him.

                “What,” he asked, taking a bite of his roll.

                “To his defense,” Hughes quickly added. “He has no food at his apartment.”

                “I wouldn’t know,” Hawkeye sighed. “I hope that you are going to change that.”

                Hughes nodded. “How are you feeling today anyway,” he asked turning to his friend who was dipping his roll in his soup.

                “Considering that I haven’t had much sleep, and my former friend thinks it’s funny to wake a friend with a giant flash bomb called the sun _and_ an overabundance of enthusiasm…”Roy shook his head. “How does Gracia even tolerate you?”

                “Well,” he sat back and smirked. “Usually I’m making it up to her with some great morning-“

                “Stop,” the woman in the group begged.

                “Don’t worry,” Mustang glared at his former friend. “I’m court marshaling him today for disobeying a superior officer.”

                “What happened to my serious friend,” Hughes looked shocked. “Now you’re making jokes?”

                Mustang glared. “I’m serious. I handed in the paperwork on my way here.”

                Hughes laughed. “Oh! But you didn’t see this adorable picture of my wife and our unborn baby!”

                Mustang dropped his head to the table.

                “Now I know why you were sleeping,” Hawkeye added quietly, taking another bite of her own roll and turned a paper that she was browsing.

                “I can’t do today. I’m just going to go hide somewhere.” Mustang was serious too. His walk-through town was refreshing, and he felt good and happy. But being in the offices seemed to dull his senses.

                “That won't fix anything,” Hughes said softly.

                “Just one hour at a time.”

                Mustang looked up to see Hawkeye smiling softly.

                “You got this,” she said.

                After his meeting with General Raven, feeling rather insignificant welcoming him to East Headquarters, he was excited to go home. It wasn’t like he was actually needed. There were a couple other officers there, and they walked around, listening to General Grumman and General Raven chat away. After about an hour, Grumman dismissed the officers and Mustang could not be happier about leaving. He was going to go home, have two fingers of some whiskey, and pass out. He was sure that Hughes was going to want to stay up, or maybe he had already passed out, but he’d not be alone as he usually was. The whole day he was feeling emotionally drained. He was just about back to square one. He was tired, feeling utterly useless, and just felt like it’d be better if he’d just disappear. He held onto a sliver of hope that he’d feel better after a full night’s rest… if he got that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being a reader! Hope you have enjoyed this, or are continuing to enjoy it... as much as you can at least.


	8. Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy visits Riza to talk things over, and to confess his feelings for her. It goes a little differently.

               Getting away from it all helped. He wanted time to organize his thoughts, to fix himself. Despite Maes’ objections, Roy wondered away from home and took a drive around town. It was nice to have just quiet, with the window down, and fresh air on his face. His mind was all over as he drove. He thought about everything, unorganized thoughts rushed through, not staying long enough to even make decisions on them. He wanted to impress General Raven somehow. But General Grumman assured him that his stats would speak for themselves. After all, Grumman favored Roy as an officer. Then there was him appreciating life. He had to tell himself that he was going to change the world. And if that was his driving force, then by God, he would. Lastly, she ran through his mind. It was normal for them to be apart weeks, months, before grasping each other in heated passion. Then why did his chest hurt without her near?

                He could hear Hughes’ voice in his head, telling him how he knew about the two of them. It nerved him since that was an intimate secret that could not be exposed. Roy only wrote that letter based on his decided actions of that night. However, he couldn’t tell her now. He couldn’t tell her how she meant to him out loud. It wasn’t that he feared rejection, but more like it was surrendering a piece of himself that he didn’t want to admit. Roy-Boy had a weakness, and it was her.

                What he really wanted was to destroy the evidence of the letter. He wanted to burn it, erase the memories of his weak moments, and rise for the ashes as a new person. He chuckled at himself as he thought about that. The fire from his fingers never renewed anything. It only destroyed. He looked out the window at the dark streets, the lamps dimly lighting the sidewalks and roads. He had to make it up to her, make it up to Riza for his abuse of the gift she gave him. Her father’s work could never be used for evil again, and it was him that put a to stop that. After all, Hawkeye’s work was destroyed, and Roy was the sole user of it. He often thought about studying and recreating the notes. At one point, he did want to journal the alchemy. But it was Riza that stopped him. She reminded him merely on their relationship, without words, the destruction that his alchemy held, and it was only him that would ever have it. In any other’s hands, a Kimblee would reoccur.

                He stopped outside her apartment and looked up at her window. The light was still on. He stepped out of his car and walked up the stairs to her door. He had nowhere else to go, and he dreaded going back to his apartment. It wasn’t that he hated Maes. It was more like he needed to clear his head and the man was a bit more energetic than Roy was. He knocked on the door and listened to see if she was awake. He heard her soft steps to the door and as she opened it, her head poked out.

                “Colonel,” she whispered. “What are you doing here?”

                “Getting out,” he shrugged.

                “It’s late, why aren’t you in bed?” She opened the door to let him in, and he noticed how she gently released the hammer on her revolver and put it in her holster hanging on a coat rack by the door.

                “Why aren’t you?”

                She grinned over her shoulder. It was a more relaxed setting in their homes. He felt safe just to talk with her there. They had planned schemes, decided their fates, and they committed to their cause, all in their homes. He trusted her with his back, and it pained him more to think that he would have taken the coward’s way out and leave her. He could see his fault now.

                He leaned against the wall and sighed as he thought about it, but she leaned against the same wall facing him. “How are you doing? Hughes driving you nuts yet?”

                “Yeah, pretty much.” He memorized the features on her face. The lighting was soft enough to give a gentle hue. Her features even in the light were smooth and soothing, the shadows were even soft. Her lips curled to the side ever so slyly, but not in happiness but concern. Her brows lowered, a crease forming in between them.

                “What are you thinking then?” Her words were quiet, tender as if she was soothing his tempered fire.

                “Honestly?”

                She tilted her head to the side, showing genuine interest in his response.

                “About you.”

                Her reaction was not what he’d hoped. As his hand reached out to cup her face, her hand intercepted it and held it in hers for a second. She looked away from his eyes, looking down at his hand. Was she looking away because of embarrassment? Or was she looking away because she was disappointed in him? She took a deep breath, letting it out loudly. “It’s hard not to worry about you,” she admitted to his hand. “I’ve wanted to be closer to you this whole time, wanted to be there for you. I hope you think that I have.”

                He leaned forward to let his forehead rest on hers.

                “Funny,” she chuckled. “I was thinking of how dangerous of a path we have taken, and how dark our lives truly are. And yet, we will not let other’s fail. We will not tolerate the easy way out.”

                He smiled, smelling her shampoo. He hummed in agreement.

                “We have to bear our sins.” She pulled from him and looked back up at him. “You’re leading me to salvation, to penance. Everyone is looking at you to lead us to change this damn country, this murdering military state.”

                “I’m sorry. I am sorry.” His hands fell to her sides, squeezing her between his hands, and pulled her into a hug. “I don’t know how else to say it.” He pressed the side of his head against hers and his arms wrapped around her and he hugged her tightly to his body. “I won’t let you down, not again.”

                Riza wrapped her arms around him squeezing tightly. “You won’t,” she comforted. “I won’t let you.”

                It made him smirk. It was suicide to stray from the path. How ironic. The only difference was who pulled the trigger. The difference was his intentions. Roy wasn’t stupid. He was smarter than he let others know. And he knew what it was going to take. He knew long ago. It didn’t scare him then, and it wasn’t going to scare him now. He looked deep into her brown eyes as a grin grew between his lips. She wasn’t going to let him stray from his path. He’d chosen it and he was going to walk it.

                “Come on in. I will make some tea.” Riza pulled from his grasp and lead him out of the entryway.

                It was quiet. Her apartment always was. She always chose not to live in the barracks like the other officers. It was more expensive for her, but it gave her relief from the chaos that could dwell in the officer’s quarters. She lived there for some time, even thought about going back, but her privacy would be infringed. And her little midnight meetings with her superior would be uncovered rather quickly. Roy, on the other hand, excused himself from living in the officer’s quarters simply by saying that he enjoyed living out in the public. It was easier for him to do patrols, to talk with the crowds, to observe them. But, Riza always encouraged quietness in her apartment.

                He found some solitude, some respite, in her simple and clean rooms. She always had boxes lying around, boxes of her father’s research and such. Other than that, it was as clean as his place, without distractions or clutter. It was easy for him to clear his head, relax, even meditate. He sat with his warm tea in hand, looking out the window at the end of the room, overlooking a market area that they both frequented. There was no one there now, but he remembered the life that grew as the sun dawned upon the land.

                “I was going over some details with the MIA case,” Riza mentioned as she put some cookies in front of him and sat down. “Officer Falman and I think there’s some worth in launching a deeper investi-“

                Roy held up his hand to silence her. “Not now, Lieutenant.”

                She stopped, nodded and lifted the tea to her lips. “I suppose you do want some silence after spending the day with Hughes.”

                He chuckled. “God,” he leaned his head back. “He’s like a toddler on sugar in a grown ass man’s body.”

                Riza laughed out loud and grinned. “He’s not that bad.”

                “I remember him at the academy,” Roy began, picking up a cookie and taking a small bite. “No one could keep up with him. He was so competitive and so energetic.” He took another bite. “He was obnoxious. Still is.”

                Riza giggled quietly, imagining young Roy and Hughes at the academy. That is after all where they became friends.

                “Granted,” he snorted. “That was when I was still young and naive enough to think that flame alchemy would benefit the people.”

                The comment sobered the room immediately. Her gaze fell to her dark tea while his remained fixed out the window.

                “I thought that I was going to change the world…”

                “So did I,” she whispered. “I think we all did. Maybe my father was the only one that knew it was so destructive.” He heard her take a cookie herself and take a bite. “I still believe it can,” She whispered after a long pause. “I have to believe that it can. With the right person, anything is possible. If I believe anything in the world anymore, it’s that.”

                He looked up to see her comforting smile. It was a relief to know that she still believed in him. She wasn’t going to abandon him in this moment of weakness.

                “I see things you should see,” she brought her tea to her lips, sipping the hot liquid quietly. She straightened her posture, bringing her shoulders back, regaining the look of confidence. “Do you know why we are all devoted to following you, despite your intolerable mood swings and laziness?”

Roy chuckled. “Oh, come on, Hawkeye. I’m not that bad, am I?”

                She raised her eyebrow and snickered but refused to comfort him after the mild insult. “It’s because we agree with your dream, Sir. We want to be part of the bigger picture that you have presented to us.”

                He snorted, looking away. “They don’t know.”

                “Oh?” Riza’s tone rose. “You don’t think they know what you’re up to? That just makes you arrogant.”

                He turned sharply towards her, glaring at her with the harsh accusations.

                “They do know. You didn’t pick just anyone to be part of your team,” she said, raising her voice just short of yelling. “They all are willing to follow you, into battle, into revolution, and to death. And you value that. They know you value that. They know you value them.” Her voice tapered off as her features softened. “And that’s why they follow you.”

                He sat quietly, turning back away from her to look out into the city’s night. “Hughes said something interesting to me,” he whispered, as his eyes remained on the window-scape. “He said that I had an obligation to make a better government to you.”

                Riza didn’t say anything in return as she listened. He had kept his conversations with Hughes quiet and to himself. She figured he was introspecting and evaluating his existence. She had no quarrels with giving him some privacy. If he was willing to share something with her, she’d love to listen.

                “If I killed… myself… Then I’d be leaving you and my team to the same corrupt bullshit that I gathered them to overthrow.”

                She nodded, taking another small sip of her own tea.

                Roy chucked humorlessly at himself, looking towards her. “He said no one else had the balls to do what I wanted to do. To make the changes that we dream.”

                She smirked. That was something Maes would say.

                He sighed, letting his shoulders sag.  “These kinds of ambitions are not accomplished easily.” He fell back into his seat and looked upon the woman across from him. If he was going to tell her, it’d be now. It’d have to be a moment when they were relaxed when their walls were down. They couldn’t be at the office, couldn’t be with anyone else, let alone Maes. He could see how she loved him, just by the shine in her walnut brown eyes. Her smooth skin allowed a tender, slight, dimple at the corner of her mouth as she smiled. It was a sympathy smile, he knew, but it was something that he rarely saw on her. The smile only existed behind the boundaries of the walls around them, not coated with the military paint and insignias to distinguish the persona they hid behind. It was a blessing of its own to see such a tender gift of hers. And although they limited their contacts, their tender engagements, he knew that there were days when their hands brushed or when she leaned extra close giving him an evening cup of tea, they both craved each other. It started as a release for stress and a sense of comfort and grew into a dependence. He didn’t just trust her with his life, but with every sense of his being.

                But, how was he supposed to tell her that even in his last thoughts, she was in his mind? That if _she_ hadn’t taken him home…

                “But that’s why we are here for you,” she continued to say. “That’s why you picked your team the way you did.”

                Roy put his tea down, leaning over the table, his hand grabbing hers in an anxious squeeze.

                Riza didn’t argue the affection. She stared for a second at his hand but didn’t withdraw.  He could tell she was thinking about it. But she didn’t argue it. She allowed a period of silence for them both to think about what was said, and what was next. She looked like she could tell he was hoping for sex. But it was only a blanket over his real problems. It’d only delay him dealing with the real issue. And maybe that was what he needed. Quiet time. Quiet time with a friend. They didn’t need to say anything. It was long enough that it would others would have considered awkward, but they were fine. He’d glance at her, smiling, then looking at his tea, and then around the room. Riza could tell he was thinking. Maybe he was reasoning everything in his life. Maybe he was weighing all his options. This time his face was calmer even if he did still carry the bags under his eyes.

                “I have nightmares too,” she admitted quietly.

                His head slowly and casually turned to face her. He knew. They’d talked about it before. It didn’t make it any easier to hear.

                “Sometimes I wake up in a cold sweat. I can see each person fall in slow motion after each trigger pull.” She took a sober drink of her tea. “I don’t even hear the gunshot. I just see them fall.”

                He looked back at his own tea. “I shouldn’t even ask how you deal with it,” he sighed.

                “But you can,” she smiled gently. “Colonel, I know that the memories won’t go away. We will forever be reminded of our sins. I cannot excuse my behavior. I have to accept it for the rest of my life.” She squeezed his hand back but noticed that he didn’t look at her. His brows here frowned tightly, his face firm and his eyes hard against his teacup. “But it’s those sins that propel me forward. It was a good friend that taught me that.”

                He nodded as his facial expression relaxed. He chuckled as he lifted the last of his tea to his lips, sipping the last of it. “Move forward,” he breathed. Riza watched as he nodded and looked back up at her with a smile. “Looks like you have a good friend that gives you good advice.”

                She smirked back. “Yeah, but he’s kind of an ass.”

                Roy continued to grin, pulling her hand towards him. He stood up, pulling her to her feet. Riza did resist at first, but not as if she was troubled by his behavior, more as if she knew it was conscious of the inappropriateness of the actions. He pulled her into a hug, which she allowed, wrapping her arms around him. He was always warm. His arms wrapped around her, the side of his head against hers. She could tell he was smelling her as his breaths were deep and slow. However, she couldn’t deny that she wasn’t also smelling him. She felt his hands drop from her upper back to her lower back. He hummed softly as his fingers tightened against her.

She closed her eyes tightly as it pained her to deny him. “Maybe it’s time for you to go home.”

                Roy’s face dropped with disappointment. He pulled back from her, quizzically tilting his head but nodded slowly. “I understand,” he admitted.  

She could tell he was disappointed. Why wouldn’t he be? “No,” she quickly tried to argue. “It’s not what you are thinking. It’s that I don’t want to be an escape for you.”

                He paused. His shoulders were broad as he stood facing the exit, where he dreaded going through. He rolled his shoulders, standing straight up, taking a deep breath. “I do understand.”

                “Roy,” she said quietly. “Are you okay?”

                He looked behind his shoulder, his sad eyes drooping. “If I said no, would you let me stay?”

                She took the few steps over to him and wrapped her arms around him from behind in a genuine embrace. “I’m here for you always. But we can’t keep using sex as a replacement of our feelings and problems.”

                Roy turned to face her, wrapping his arms around her one last time. He didn’t tell her. He opted out of those feelings, again. Should he tell her? Should he kiss her, an attempt to change her mind? He couldn’t. It wouldn’t change her mind. Riza was stubborn and unchanging. That’s why he wanted her behind him. She’d never let him deviate. He pulled from the hug, kissing her forehead lightly, and turned to leave. “I hurt,” he admitted. “My whole body hurts. I have awful dreams, sleep less and less, but I won’t stop fighting for us.” He reached for his coat, turning to face her. He grinned as he slipped his arms in the sleeves. “We’re not going to stop.”

                “Yes, Sir.” She nodded, leaning against the entryway wall. “I’m with you all the way.”

                “Good night, Hawkeye.”

                “Good night, Mustang.”

####

                “There you are!”

                “Do you ever sleep,” Roy groaned as he closed the door behind him.

                “Yeah,” Maes chuckled. “It is late, isn’t it?”

                Roy groaned again as he walked past his friend, collapsing on his couch. “Went and visited a friend.” He picked up his legs and placed them on the chair’s ottoman.

                “A friend? You were cheating on me?” Maes looked shocked, putting his hand on his chest as he gasped.

                Roy rolled his eye immediately. “Only friends who don’t shove their beautiful wife’s pictures in my face!”

                “Ah-ha,” Maes laughed as he waved a finger at Roy. “I knew you thought she was beautiful.”

                Roy didn’t respond as he let his head fall back and he looked up at the ceiling. “I’ve gone from wanting to cease existing, to weighing my worth and cause, to living in forty-eight hours.”

                Mae’s sat down next to him. “It’s not going to be easy.” His hand patted his friend’s thigh before he crossed his arms over his chest. The two had more than a bond of war and youth. It wasn’t anything comparable. They just fit well, and Maes had Roy’s back as much as Roy had Maes’. Thing was, they worked so well together in that unity. Based on the simple idea that protecting to protect and changing the system from the inside… bonded them forever. It was that silly pyramid scheme that Roy had developed. It was an oath of rebellion, mutiny, and of loyalty. They were in the same boat when Maes said he’d follow him, he’d support him. They’d be traitors together, and Roy would lead the way.

                Roy laughed lightly. “But it’s going to be worth it.” He must have been thinking the same thing. Confidence would surge through his veins again, it was just a matter of time.

                “You’re not going to feel better tomorrow.”

                “I don’t expect to.” Roy turned his head to see his best friend smiling at him. “But I’m not going to let it stop me.” And there it was. The confidence, the smirk, the fire in Roy’s eyes that gave his idealisms sustenance to be believed. He knew it wasn’t going to be tomorrow, but neither was the changes he expected to make, neither was he becoming Furher in a day. It was patience, and he would be patient.

                Maes nudged him from the side. “You know,” he laughed. “Most of these assholes in the government and military will never compare to you. None of them give two shits about their friends or subordinates.”

                Roy raised his eyebrow, opening an eye to glance at his friend from the side. “I’m just going to fix their doings. And to do that, I need to be alive. To do that, I need to move up the ranks. I need to work my way up so that I can stop another massacre of our people again.”

                His friend grinned. “That’s the man I chose to follow.”

                “Maes,” Roy put his hands behind his head. “I think you are completely right. I need to protect my subordinates. This isn’t protecting them, this is avoiding responsibilities.”

                Maes didn’t say anything.

                “I hurt so much. But I’m going to use it to drive me.” His voice deepened, his eyes darkened, and the creases of his forehead bowed in determination.

                “Have you eaten?”

                Roy rolled his eyes. “You’re going to make me fat.”

                Having his friend there, was a renewing reminder of his goals. It was also saving his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say. We are heading to the end of it all. Hope that you have enjoyed it... enjoyed all the angst and depressiveness. 
> 
> Thank you for being a reader!


	9. The End, The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy says bye to Hughes and reevaluates his and Riza's relationship

                Maes Hughes yawned as he sat up from the couch. He scratched his head with a giant yawn and looked around. He could hear movement from the room next to him. “Oh good, he’s awake,” he mumbled to himself. He wasn’t used to sleeping on a couch for so long, though he would never complain after sleeping on stone at one point. He rolled his shoulders before reaching into his bag and pulling out a clean uniform. He slipped it on, hearing some more movement in the room next to him. He tilted his head to the side in curiosity. “What the hell are you doing?” It was a rhythmic sound and he could hear a steady exhale, forceful and heavy. He stopped before opening the door, anticipating the ultimate regret that could possibly follow. He didn’t have to open the door. He could just go make coffee, but as it was his last day in East City, he wanted to make sure Roy was okay.

                As the door opened, he saw his best friend on the floor, arms behind his head. He pulled himself up, perfect in form, elbows out, sitting straight up. With control, he lowered himself back to the floor before readjusting and sitting up on his elbows. “Good Morning,” Roy greeted. “I didn’t wake you did I?”

                “How long have you been up?” Maes’ eyes were wide. He was completely surprised that his friend, known for sleeping in, was up before he was and exercising.

                “Only about an hour. I was going to finish this and then jump in the shower.” Roy hopped up and twisted to the side as he stretched out. “Do we want to get breakfast at the cafeteria?”

                Maes laughed. “Sure. But I’m opting out of doing push-ups or sit-ups.” He patted his flat stomach. “I have to work on my daddy body!”

                Roy chuckled at his friend. “Yeah, you do!”

                Maes let Roy do his push-ups and get into the shower, shutting the door and going to start the coffee. It’d been a while since he had done morning exercises. He made a point of going to the gym at least twice a week, but clearly would rather spend time with his family.

* * *

 

                The office was busy on that particular day. Hughes was always close by, investigating certain cases, but never out of reach of Mustang. He followed him around, nagging him constantly of his wife and unborn child. That alone, he was getting tired of. The way that Hughes would throw open the door, yelling out Mustang’s first name, and going to each officer to show them the same picture of his wife that he did just an hour before. Mustang was beginning it believe that it was Hughes’ way of subconsciously threatening him into never getting that depressed again. And it was working. Roy was already agreeing to never get that low again, not because he didn’t love his friend, but because the endless rambles were keeping him from getting his, and his officers’ work done.

                Without any signal, Hughes got serious, leaning over Havoc to go over something. Roy would assume that the antics were finally over for the day and that work would finally get done. After all, his laziness could not be construed that his men were also lazy. “See, Roy!” Hughes called from Havoc’s desk. “At least someone here loves me!”

                Havoc tried to protest but Hughes only shoved his head down.

                Mustang threw a pencil at his friend. “That’s my officer! Get your own!”

What was comforting was when Hawkeye would hand him things, standing over her shoulder. Her presence was not overwhelming, but maybe she just complimented him too well. They were more reserved, however, she brought his ego down to Earth. When her hand would graze his, he knew that the illusion they held at work was only that. An illusion, a front. At lunch, he refused to go, saying that he wanted a nap instead. He woke to some food and tea on his desk. He could only imagine what Hughes would have left if he was given the chance. But it didn’t mean that Mustang’s mind was settled… His thoughts bounced from one to the next. He wondered if he and she were going to remain a thing, a couple? Her tenderness to attention gave him the impression that she still wanted to be with him. But she hadn’t said anything to indicate them seeing each other after that night. He tapped his pen on his paper as his thoughts went to imagine that she didn’t want anything personal with him anymore because of how mentally unstable he had proved to be. Yet, again, she’d make sure to press a little closer to him when leaning over him, showing him some stats.  

                “Roy!” The door swung open for the tenth time that day.

                “Hughes,” Mustang barked back. “Get out!”

                “Not until I tell you this really cool thing I found out!” Hughes took long strides over to Mustang’s desk. He pulled the picture from his pocket. “I found out it’s going to be a girl!”

                Mustang’s head dropped to the table. “Get out,” he muttered from his spot.

                Hughes laughed loudly as he turned to see who was in the office before leaning over to his friend. “Those unlucky fellows on the outpost…”

                Roy tiredly lifted his head.

                “Where is Havoc?”

                “I don’t know…”

                “You’re his commanding officer,” Hughes looked at him seriously. “I think we found evidence of their murder.”

                Roy looked back at Hawkeye who also seemed to look concerned. “They checked the area a couple of times for any evidence of that,” she said quietly. “Now there is something coming up? That doesn’t make sense.”

                Roy sat up as his hand scratched his head.

                “That tells me a few things,” Hughes added. “But nevertheless, they found freshly overturned dirt. I was going to request Havoc lead an investigation out there.”

                Mustang nodded, looking over his shoulder at adjutant. “Send Falman too,” he muttered.

                “But by the time they get back,” Hawkeye interrupted with concern. “You will be back in Central.”

                Hughes shrugged with a grin. “Looks like I will just have to turn my case over to the prestigious Flame Alchemist.” His grin grew wide as slid a folder over to Mustang. “The credit will look good on your resume.”

                He looked up at his friend before opening it and looking over the information.

                “You leave tonight, don’t you?” Hawkeye stepped forward.

                “Yup,” he nodded a confirmation. “I’m leaving this sad sack to you.” He tossed his thumb towards Mustang who gave him no physical reaction as he continued to look over the report.

                “I’m fine,” Mustang continued to grumble. “Lieutenant make sure that Havoc is deployed tonight. This can’t wait. If there is a cover-up or any chance that they were buried later…”

                “What do you think about this assumption,” Hughes pointed down the sheet.

                Roy nodded. “That’s why this can’t wait.” He turned to Hawkeye who saluted.

                “Yes, Sir.” She took the folder from his hand and started to the door.

                “Which way are you going Hawkeye?” Hughes jumped off his desk and followed her out.

                Mustang watched them go as he rested his chin on his knuckles. He looked at the few lower ranked officers that worked on their personal tasks with no attention towards him. Busy little bees, loyal and dutiful dogs, or blindness followers, he wasn’t sure what to call them. But he did know that they were all risk during their patrols. The risk his men were personally taking while standing and patrolling the borders didn’t have to include being murdered by a fellow officer. It was just another thing to put on his plate. Hughes was leaving today, and the awkwardness of his lieutenant was going to be more intense. Though he had tried several times to bring up their relationship outside of work, she oddly dismissed it. He had to wonder why. A week ago, she was fine spending the night with him in an intimate embrace. The only thing that he could conclude was that she was afraid of him, afraid of losing him.

                Maybe she was right. Maybe they needed to part ways and be more professional. More obvious, maybe he had been using her to hide his dark thoughts. But it didn’t hide the feelings that he always had for her. Since they were young, since Ishval, they had had some kind of relationship. The tension and avoidance needed to come to a head at some point. Their childish games would have to wait. But it also didn’t stop him from thinking about Hughes’ words either. 

                He turned, crossing his legs and tapped his fingers against the desk with one hand. “They were murdered, huh?” He sighed. “What a fucking day.” He just had to get through today and tomorrow he’d address his other thoughts.

* * *

 

                The two war brothers walked side by side towards the train station. One had his hands in his pockets, while the other ran his hand through his hair. They smiled, chuckled even, and their conversation was anything serious. Roy was okay with Mae’s leaving. He was feeling better, and the two of them had formed a plan of attack for his mental well-being. They felt confident that Roy was going to be alright. And Roy had to wonder what Maes had said to Riza. He was sure she was in on the deal as well. She was there for him, he knew. Even with today being rather stressful, she put her hand on his shoulder as she walked by, and her touch was a radiating warmth to him. But was it her loving him, or her just adding comfort to keep him from diving back onto the depressional abyss that threatened to swallow him. He couldn’t deny that not having Hughes around was going to boring, however, it would give him time to reevaluate him and Riza. He needed to know where they stood and what she wanted from him from now on. He wouldn’t avoid the issue, and she couldn’t avoid him.

                They arrived at the station, Roy looking at the train with a yawn.

                “Make sure you get enough rest,” Maes reminded like his parent, shaking his finger at him.

                Roy waved it off, wiping it from his face. “Yeah, yeah. Save your parental voice for your daughter.”

                Hughes grinned brightly, even puffing his chest out a little.

                It was all he could do to not roll his eyes.

                Maes pulled a letter from his coat and waved it front of his face. “I know how you feel about her. And I can’t blame you. You two have been close for years.”

                Roy’s eye grew instantly reached out to grab the letter he’d been trying to find, but Mae’s pulled it from his reach.

                “And you call me the romantic. But you never let anyone get this close.” He snickered, giving the letter to Roy. “If you tell her or not, that’s up to you. But follow your feelings. It was your feelings, your instinct, that has driven you this far to change the way things are.” Hughes put his hand roughly on Roy’s shoulder, even shaking it a bit.

                Roy grabbed the envelop and looked at it. Her name was scribbled on it, reminding him of that fateful night. He was foolish, and he was even more blinded by the obvious reasons that Maes presented. He was right, but it just couldn’t be. He may have been feeling better, but the lack of reassurance from her was building doubt in him. Maybe she was stepping away. Maybe she was realizing that he wasn’t right for the job. His finger glided over her name. Maybe she’d do the world the favor and shoot him in the back.

                “Hey,” Maes said quietly as he bumped his shoulder into Roy’s. “It’s going to be okay. I know it is. I’m only a phone call away.”

                Roy snorted as he put the letter in this inner coat pocket, next to his heart.

                “We talked,” he admitted as he looked at his train readying for departure. “I think that you will be fine.”

                “What did you two discuss? My funeral arrangements?”

                “You’re not married to her,” Maes laughed loudly. “Not yet anyway!”

                Roy shoved his best friend roughly. “Shut up. Get on that damn train.”

                Maes only grinned as he took a few more steps towards the train. He looked back at Roy and they both smiled easily at each other. They were simply happy to see each other, and sorry that it was going to be a while before they saw each other again. Roy could be happy to have his empty apartment back to its quiet self. But he was going to miss Maes complaining over his cooking or nagging him about not being home on time. At least… he’d miss it for a short time. He’d miss it for two nights, maybe one… maybe just a couple hours. But as his heart beat against the letter in his pocket. He now had other things he needed to address. He was not going to be alone. He had to talk to her and find out exactly where they stood. He needed to get his details on track and move forward with his plans to overthrow the corrupt government and lead the country into peace. 

                “Later, Mustang.” Maybe Maes saw that. Maybe he saw and knew what Roy was thinking. And that is why he was fine with leaving.

                “See ya, Hughes.” Roy lifted his hand and smiled gently. _It’s been good, ol’ friend_.

                Maes turned and boarded the train and Roy turned to walk away simultaneously. He smirked as if a new fire had been lit in his soul. He couldn’t afford to let himself falter. He couldn’t fail. If anything, it was for his men. They deserved to see their loyalty be rewarded with change. And it took a friend to remind him of that.

* * *

 

                Riza looked up as she heard a knock on her door. She wasn’t necessarily expecting anyone and for a second, she wondered if her neighbor was wondering if she had more flour. For all the baking that the old woman did, Riza was her main source of the more essential ingredient. Riza kept it on hand just in case. She got up, pulling her sweater close to her as she opened the door barely, just enough to look out. Roy, in a nice suit and vest, stood in the doorway holding up a bottle of wine and a paper grocery back which he held against his chest. She tilted her head. “Colonel? Can I help you?”

                “Thought I’d stop by.” Roy grinned, cheeky as he does. “I hope that I’m not disturbing anything.”

                She raised her eyebrow suspiciously as she let him in, checking the hall of any witnesses. “I thought we agreed to keep this secret. You showing up during the early night is not secretive,” she immediately lectured.

                Roy put the wine on her counter, and the groceries next to it, rolling his eyes at her tone. “There was no one there. Plus, I have some important matters to talk with you.”

                She sighed as she followed him into the kitchen and watched him unload the bag. He had gotten a few things for dinner, which, she wouldn’t admit, she hadn’t eaten yet. She had a few veggies, and a slice of bread, but was excited just to relax and not do much than that. She had to wonder if he was going to cook because if there was a lacking skill of Roy’s, it was cooking. And it didn’t mean that he didn’t try. It just wasn’t something she was completely fond of, especially when they were younger. But it was good enough to accept over an MRE. “What are you up to, Colonel?”

                “What,” he looked over his shoulder, smirking. It definitely looked like he was up to something.  “I can’t just come over and fix you dinner?”

                “We don’t have dinner when you come over. And you don’t cook.” She stood next to him with her hands on her hips.

                “Well,” He twisted the bottle opener into the wine. “I’m starting new.”

                Riza squinted her eyes in suspicion but wasn’t going to argue with him. He was starting new. He was trying and she could see that. But this wasn’t him trying. This was him being weird. She watched as he pulled out some noodles. “Noodles?”

                He smiled sheepishly. “Easy.”

                She chuckled as she leaned against the counter and watched him. He was smiling. That was completely odd for his character. She had to think about the last time that he smiled; really smiled. And considering that it’d only been a week since he almost took his life, she wondered how real it was. He certainly could have just put on a good front and letting her believe he was happy to please her. Then Roy turned to her. He tilted his head. “What,” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

                He didn’t say anything as he leaned forward and kissed her. It wasn’t a pressing kiss, urgent or overwhelming. It wasn’t at first. But she fell for it and she, in return, pressed against him. All her preaching about them behaving was thrown out the window. She pressed him against the counter, taking control, as her tongue opened his lips. There was a moment of a deep breath before their lips sealed again. She felt her heart skip a beat, speeding up as their noses brushed. Every kiss that they ever had rushed through her mind, playing like a memory of him. They were not intimate to begin with, but once it happened, it opened like a present. The wrapping was thrown away and the box was torn open with surprise. They would never be back to professionalism that was ever before, no matter how much they tried. Her body, her heart, ached for him. Her hands grabbed his sides, pulling him closer by his shirt. Her fingers tightened as if her grasp on him lightened for a minute, he’d slip away and Riza would lose him forever. She felt his hands grab eagerly at her hips, pulling her to him by the belt loops. She knew his wanting of her was ravaging, like thirst. It didn’t matter all the bells and alarms that went off, they couldn’t stop themselves from diving over the cliff with each other.  

                Riza heard the veggies fall into the sink as they bumped them and then a few more things into a few things. It was a failing attempt to try to hold him to the sink. Thankfully he caught the wine before it tipped over, and pressed it farther into the counter. His hands let her belt loops go as he struggled to move his hands down his thighs, trying to lift her onto the counter. But she pulled from him, and he pressed himself against her again, groaning deeply into the kiss. She felt other things than his hands and lips. The solid indicator that was against her leg relayed the urgency of his actions.

                She felt an involuntary moan slip out and her hands pressed his chest. Sucking on his bottom lip as they disconnected, and she heaved heavily for air. What could have been said? No? We can’t? Could she throw her conscious and his ambitions to the side this last time as she reminded him of her love and devotion to him? Riza looked into Roy’s eyes, his deep and dark eyes. Though they were black, she could see so much emotion in them. No, they wouldn’t stop. She couldn’t tell him no. As he pressed himself against her leg again, she felt her underwear grow intensively wet. It was heavy down there, flowing freely without constraint. If she told him no now, even she’d be left without gratification. Riza would be left lacking the fulfillment that he brought to her… that anyone brought her.

                Roy put his head on hers as he struggled to catch his own breath before breaking the silence. “Are you going to turn me away? Do you want me to leave,” he asked quietly. She could hear the fear, the underlining disappointment that his voice held. The wrinkles on his forehead were felt against his as he closed his eyes tightly.

                She moved her head up, breaking their contact, and raised her hands to his face. Her palms cupped his cheeks as she pulled him to her. It must have been a clear answer because he turned her and picked her up onto her dining table. In a sweeping motion, his hands opened her legs and he fit between them. Although the table was too high for the convergence that they both craved, but the actions themselves made them both wimper anxiously. Her fingers swept into his hair, dragging them from the roots to the ends. Whines morphed to groans and she felt his hands work feverishly to pull her pants off. They descended down his shoulders, down his back, grabbing the back of his shirt. She pulled at it, though she knew that the buttons on the front needed to be undone.

                He parted from her as he looked down at her pants, able to focus more on undoing her pants. It was also her turn to pull his buttons free. Her fingers seemingly shook, unable to properly move and coordinate her needs. Her hands burned for her to just rip the shirt, buttons popping off, as she’d free his chest of coverings. Her hands would finally be free to explore and dominate every inch of his chest. But even that her fingers couldn’t confirm. One button, in particular, seemed overly difficult when his hands covered hers as they easily slipped the button from his constraint.

                _Great_ , she thought as she looked up at him. _Now he knows how much I’ve lost control_. And he wore a calm face, that smirk that was a dead giveaway that he was up to no good. Though she could see his chest heaving and nose flaring, his hands remained calm on hers. She had fed that ego of his and now he was just going to bask in the glow of his achievement. Riza knew that Roy was losing it too. Under that smirk, he was hiding the fact that he couldn’t last another moment with a barrier such as clothes between them. He guided her fingers down to another button before he leaned in and kissed her again. They’d gone from desperate to control. Riza knew that meant he was fighting it too. He was consciously working to control himself. Another kiss, and another, and another, getting longer and longer before each of his buttons were undone and her fingers pulled them from his pants. Her hands covered his chest, fingers grasping wide to cover as much space as possible. Then the tender kisses grew heavy again, taking a breath away and forcing pleasurable sounds to leak from their throats.

                “Roy,” she whispered into him.

                “Hmm,” he moaned back. His lips trailed to her chin as it traced her jaw and to her ear. Riza naturally lifted her chin to expose her neck and he greedily took it. It was the ultimate giving of trust and he pressed his waist into the table causing it to move.

                “Roy,” she gasped feeling him pull her towards him. She let her legs wrap around him lifting her hips to him. “Colonel,” she moaned.

                His lips had landed where her neck ended and her shoulder began, and he groaned into her skin. He shoved his hips into the table again, his finger digging into her lower hips hard enough to bruise. He moaned, she gasped. It was the least she could do as her fingers dug into his sides, scraping along his ribs. “This,” he heaved, “this won’t be enough,” he moaned.

                Riza wrapped her arms around his neck and in the next instant, she was hoisted up. Her legs tightened around his waist as she felt his hands grab her ass tightly. Her apartment was small, so it only took a few steps to her bedroom. There wasn’t a need for anything but the simple things, a bed dresser, and a light on her bed stand. Her bed was just for her, a single. When he dropped her on it, there was no room for error. And he did it perfectly, every time. She never hit her head on the wall. Once her body compressed the springs in her mattress, her hands went to work and undressing herself, all the while watching him tossing his shirt aside and fumble with his belt. It was a race to who could get naked first.

                Roy moved over her on the bed, placing kisses up her body; straight up her center, reaching her breastbone, and taking a moment to value and take in her breasts. His hands cupped them gently, squeezing them with gentle pressure but willing himself not to intentionally hurt her. His mouth sucked on her nipples, threating to bite them. His hard erection pressed against her inside thigh as her back arched and she let out a gasp. He switched to the other beast. No need to overdo it, after all, he’d come back to them later. Riza’s fingers were grasping at his hair, whispering his name as if it’d release her from his intoxicating hold. Though it would be a lie if she said she’d rather be sober.

                The kisses continued up along her collarbone, to her neck and Riza let out another “Roy,” as he sucked on her ear. “God damn it, Roy,” she muttered still gasping at his touches. The kisses that went back down her neck were barely felt, just light enough for her to notice, but soft enough for her to crave more. Her hand found his chest and he pressed his body against hers, letting his dick slip between her dripping folds to lubricate himself. His teasing, just dipping himself into her warm cavern, lifted to her ceiling as he gasped, taking in a breath with a hiss through his teeth. Her fingers grabbed at his sweat-soaked skin as she moved her hips to accept him.

                “You’re awfully eager,” he chuckled as he put his face back in her neck.

                “Shut up,” Riza snapped. “You’re teasing isn’t helping.”

                Roy chuckled again as he let his tip play at her entrance. “Good things come to those who are patient.”

                She groaned and tried to lift herself to him, but Roy carefully lifted his hips to avoid her. The bastard was playing with her. He can’t go from kissing her passionately and begging for her, to making her beg for him. As her hands darted to his waist, Roy quickly grabbed them. He sat up and he pinned them above her head, falling back on top of her. Their lips met again and Riza lifted her neck, pressing back at him, resisting to be fully submissive in this event. It failed when he pressed himself into her. Fully into her. He stopped to adjust himself, and Riza let out a pleasurable cry. Then the kisses resumed. Their connection was to be met at both ends. Riza felt the passion swell in her chest as his abs flexed, gently pressing deeper into her, while his lips kissed her as if he had one more kiss left in this life. It was how their lips slipped, and how her tongue would rub along his upper lip, and how he'd moan into her. Their sexual tension, the anticipation of his entry, and the intense pleasure that the entry brought, all were expressed in that kiss. 

                Roy was one to take his time, though she could always tell by if his eyes were open or closed to how close he was to release. There’d be times that he’d groan as he’d bury his face in her neck, holding deep within her. While other times he’d hover above her and hold eye contact with her as he pressed as deep as he could.  At first, it’d be nearly overwhelming, just trying to adjust to him. Her hips would buck into his, spasming to meet his pace. Then her eyes would meet his and somehow, they’d stop, losing themselves. That’s not what she wanted, but it seemed to be what he wanted. Roy would smirk, kiss her delicately before swinging back into pace. The small space that was given to them was hard for her to contend with, and he was doing a fine job at already bringing her to see stars.

                She squeezed his hands above her as she felt herself tighten around him, forcing herself to breathe. “Take your time,” he whispered in her ear before plunging deeper, harder into her. Then he’d go back to a steady rhythm. Her head would drop back to the pillow as she held in a scream, but it’d leak from within. He pressed further in again. It was as if he was reaching all the way back.

                “You’ve,” she gasped and groaned. “You got to put a condom on,” she reached for the nightstand. “Roy!” He pounded hard into her again before retreating, letting her arms rest tiredly above her.

                She didn’t watch as he slipped the rubber barrier over himself. Riza was far too focused on regaining control of herself. She debated heavily on throwing him over and mounting him for a change. He kneeled before her, watching her sit up, sweat dripping down her exposed chest, admiring her as she gazed admirably upon his. He was toned to say the least, little fat with tight muscles. She knew even under his clothes. There had been a few times in the gym that they had practiced tactics (mostly due to bets on her kicking his ass) and she’d felt in close pins how solid he was. It was only when he sat before her, glistening like a polished rock, did she ever consider it a gift from the gods.

                “What,” he asked her. “Are you okay?”

                Riza nodded, taking a deep breath. “You up for a change?”

                He tilted his head to the side.

                “Let me on top,” she tried to scoot to the side so he could lay down. “Let me give you a break. I promise not to hurt your dignity.”

                He was more than happy to lay down for her. His erect rod twitching as she readied herself over him. There was one disadvantage to this position. Yes, it’d being him deep into her, but that deepness would often send her instantly over the edge. It was her turn to practice control. Riza had never seen the ocean. Like a rider, her hips rocked with his thrusts up into her. Riza had very little Equestrian experience, she’d watched many riders in her home town as a child. If riding could break riders and horses free, it was no different as she rode him out. She’d rock against him, and his hips would instinctually lift to meet hers. It moved him into and over fiery nerves in her, and it’d put the right pressure on him to leave him begging for a break.

                Roy’s hands gripped her thighs as he begged her to stop. She pivoted her hips to add pressure against him and stopped. She grabbed his hands to guide them from her hips to her breasts and it was now that he squeezed them roughly. She was so tight around him, on her own brink, looking over the edge of bliss, that she could feel his own desperation from falling over the edge. His hot member inside her spasmed as she did around him. Her back arched as she wheezed, looking down at him for a second. There it was, tight eyes and an open mouth as he sucked air in as if he’d just come up from a long dive.

                “You have to let me back on top,” he demanded as his hands roughly handled her breasts. Riza knew what this really meant. He needed that control. He needed to feel that he was okay, that _he_ was going to make _his_ life better. It was a matter of conquering himself, and holding onto the situation than it was achieving an orgasm. With her on top, he was just being taken care of. He was letting her drive him into euphoria. And looking down at him, with his body tense, his abs clenched tight, hips lifted into hers, she knew he was fighting for control, even if it was over himself.

                Steadily she withdrew, still watching him struggle in a moment. He turned to her and grinned. “Now you’re in trouble,” he joked as he rolled over, pulling her under him. It wasn’t long, and that was okay. The release was intense and her whole body seemed to freeze from shock as it washed over her. Every nerve in her body flared and the explosion between her legs shot to her fingertips and her toes. She grasped at his skin before slamming her fist into the bed, then into his side, earning an oaf from him. She called out to him before biting her lip, doing her best to hush herself. The last thing she wanted was her neighbors actually hearing that she was having intercourse. Of course, he was doing the same thing. His jaw was so tight that she worried he’d break a tooth. And the deep groan within him could be closely compared to a growl. He thrust deep into her a few more times, threating to rush her into a second coming, but his arms shook, and he fell between her and the wall. With a careful hand, he pulled the condom off, tying the end and reaching above him to drop it on the floor by her end table. She had to move to the edge of her side, giving him the little room she had so that they could look at each other.

                “You’re not going to make me leave, are you,” he breathed heavily.

                She giggled as her legs threatened to twitch. “Not yet,” she joked back. He shifted his arms around her, and on her bed made for one, they pressed up against each other. She could smell him. Not his cologne or his soap, but his sweat. “You remember when you ran into me switching spots,” she whispered into his chest. “In Ishval.”

                Roy hummed a confirmation as his head rested on the pillow above her head. She settled her head on his arm which was stretched out for her.

                “And we found that back room,” she continued to reminisce. “You brought out this thin blanket and pulled me into your arms as we napped…”

                He chuckled but didn’t say anything.

                “You were so sweaty from the day,” she smiled, though he couldn’t see it. “You smelled so good.”

                “You smelled like the flowers in your garden,” he whispered back. “For the rest of the war I would wonder how you smelled like daisies in a war zone…”

                Riza nuzzled into him, taking in a deep breathe again. “And I’m supposed to protect you.”

                “You did,” he whispered, his voice growing light as sleep took him. “I’m still here.”

* * *

                Her alarm didn’t go off when Riza woke. As she looked back towards the end table she could see that she still had an hour and a half before her alarm would go off. She’d somehow rolled over in her sleep and the other body had wrapped his arms around her, holding it tight against his chest. And as much as she found it comforting and warm, she had to pee. She wriggled from his grasp, listening to him groan at her departure.

                “Don’t tell me it’s time to wake,” he huffed but didn’t open his eyes. He rubbed his face with a spare hand and rolled half onto his back as it hit the wall.

                “No,” she whispered. “We have a few minutes.”

                He started snoring again. It always amused him how fast he fell asleep, but she was honestly no different. They found sleep where they could. She especially was sensitive to sounds.  She turned and walked quietly to the bathroom, looking back over her shoulder again to make sure that he wasn’t getting up. The memories of a few hours ago readily flowed back to her and Riza couldn’t help but smirk. She could still feel his fingers on her, his lips against her neck, hear his frustration in moans and groans. He once told her that only she could get him that like, and she often wondered if it was the truth, or if he told that to every other woman. Of course… She knew better. There was never “others.” He didn’t cheat. He was a man of integrity and honor after all.

                While coming back into the bedroom, she saw how rested he finally looked. It was the calmest, the most peaceful she’d ever seen him, at least in the recent days. He needed all the sleep he could get.  He snored softly, his side rising and falling in an easy flow. As she stepped towards him, she stepped on his pants. _That’s right_ , she thought with an eye roll. _Just toss your clothes all over._ He laughed to herself considering that hers were on the other end of her room. As she picked them up, a paper fell out of his pocket.

                Usually she didn’t bother with his business, however, there was writing on the outside of the folded paper and as she picked it up, Riza raised an eyebrow to see it was her name. With a look at the sleeping Colonel, curiosity seized her and Riza opened the envelope and read the message.

                Her breath was caught as she read the message that was specifically written to her, just over a week ago. The goodbye and final confessions of his admiration for her. She looked up at him again before looking back at it and reading it again. It wasn’t much, but in it, she could still hear him asking for help. And he risked everything by writing her. It admitted his mental vulnerability and his feelings for a subordinate. It relayed to her the feeling of guilt, the horrors that played in his head. The memories of his collapse into despair was brought back and it felt just as real as before. She felt her heart sink and she fought to keep standing.

                Riza didn’t know what to do afterward. She felt as if she had invaded some sort of privacy of his but was hurt and confused why the letter was in his pants. She bit her bottom lip as she thought about the next form of action. Maybe she should have disposed of the letter. That’d be protecting him. The last thing his enemies ever needed was clear evidence of his weaknesses. She couldn’t have that. And somewhere deep in her, Riza felt that if she disposed of it, maybe the memories of him crying in her arms would die too.

                “What,” she heard break the silence.

                She lifted her head and showed the paper.

                “Oh,” he responded.

                More silence. Their life was played in silence. It was their greatest weapon, but now she’s beginning to think that between them it’s a greater weakness. It would never matter if the world never heard them, never understood them as they were able to play their games. But if they couldn’t tell each other what was in letters, or that letters existed, they were no stronger than anyone else.

                Roy sat up, leaning against his elbow. “I guess you found it.”

                Her naked body walked slowly towards him. “Why didn’t I get this? When did you write this?”

                Roy reached out as he touched her side. His fingers glided easily over her pale skin. “Before we went to the bar. It’s okay. I was going to destroy it.”

                She turned to look back into his dark eyes. “I can’t lose you,” she breathed, her chest tightening. “I can’t bear the fact that you didn’t want to be here anymore, that you didn’t want to be with me.”

                Roy shook his head as he scooted across the bed closer to her. “No,” he argued quietly as if the world suddenly was hearing them. “It wasn’t you. And I don’t want to leave.” He kissed her midback. “I’m not going to leave.”

                She took a deep breath, still struggling to compose herself of recent memories.

                “You’re the one who’s supposed to tell me it’s going to be okay,” he joked lightly, but Riza wasn’t having any of it.

                She didn’t move from her place as she folded the letter up carefully. He pulled at her, suggesting her to return back to bed.

                He stopped and laid back onto his back. “Hughes told me to tell you how I felt.”

                She turned, still looking over her shoulder as she watched him rub his face.

                “And... How do you feel?"

                He pulled his arm away, still staring at the ceiling. The air between them felt heavy. There was guilt and even a sense of betrayal. “That I love you,” he breathed quietly. “I can’t do this without you. And even if we stopped this relationship, and we never met again in the same bed…” Roy turned his head to look at her. “I can’t bear to be without you.”

                Riza didn’t move. She nodded slowly before putting the letter on the nightstand. “This complicates our relationship,” she whispered.

                “It doesn’t,” he argued quickly. “We both know that what we have isn’t just hormones and stress relief. This has gone on too long for that.” She felt him roll back onto his side and reached out for her again. “It’s not for me.”

                She nodded, still not moving. They let the silence fill the space, hoping that the tension would dissipate, fade into the darkness that they resided in. She nodded again and turned, laying down next to him. She kept her back to him as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling himself closer to her.

                “Nothing changes. I promise.” He kissed the back of her head, and she felt his tight grow tighter around her. “I’ve always felt this way, and I’ve always wanted you near.”

                Riza took a deep breath and placed her hands over his. “I love you too.” She yawned. “When we go into work today, try not to look at my ass too much.”

                She heard his chuckle lightly, saying something into her hair. They’d go back to sleep, she thought. There’d be time to reason all this out in her head later. Right now, sleep and Roy was all that mattered.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Finally! The end! I'm sorry it took WAY too long to finish, but it's done. There were quite a few barriers between now and then... and of course an argument between my husband and I about how it should end. BUT! It's done. 
> 
> Thank you for being readers! Onto the next project!


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